


Professor Black (WIP)

by CLBoden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 94
Words: 287,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25404448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLBoden/pseuds/CLBoden
Summary: This is an alternate timeline in which Regulus survived The Cave and brings the locket to Dumbledore in hopes of destroying it. He, instead of Snape, becomes Potions Master after the fall of Voldemort. Like Snape he begins as an untrustworthy character, but over time becomes a more trusted ally.I'm rating it 'General' because there's nothing that I'll include that would be out of place in Rowling's original work.
Comments: 648
Kudos: 206





	1. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone: The Potions Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are designed to fit into what JK Rowling has already written. To help with placing, so that the work can be read as a whole I will put the page numbers of the standard British children's editions between sections (just swap out Snape for Black if he turns up in passing!). Obviously as the series progresses there will be less reliance on what is written on the page.

1\. The Potions Master

(PS 7-94)

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was taking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with shiny black hair and an incredibly pale complexion.

It happened very suddenly. The pale teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

'Ouch!' Harry clapped a hand to his head.

'What is it?' asked Percy.

'N-nothing.'

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher's look - a peircing gaze that seemed to burrow right into him.

'Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?' he asked Percy.

'Oh, you know Quirrell already do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Black. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Black.'

Harry watched Black for a while but Black didn't look at him again.

(PS 94-101)

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had got the idea that Professor Black disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew it. Though he seemed to not like anyone.

It was well known that Professor Black favoured Slytherins though, he was after all their head of house - not that any other heads favoured their houses, especially not McGonagall, head of Gryffindor.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Black, like Flickwit earlier that week, started by taking the register, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

'Hmm. Mr Potter, I do so hope that you do not let this new found fame go to your head.'

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands.

'It will bring you no favours in this class, hard work is imperative.' He fixed Harry with his steely glare as it this were more of a warning than some friendly advice. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

'In this class you are here to learn. You will require your full attention and concentration. There is no room for mistakes, one ounce out of place could mean the difference between true love, and cold eternal death.' He spoke at a steady, emotionless level and had the class hanging on every word.

'You have been at Hogwarts for almost a whole week now. I would imagine that even those of you from a Muggle background would have some basic knowledge of the potions found within Mr Jigger's book. I wonder, who can remember the kind of water needed for a Forgetfulness Potion?' 

A smattering of hands raised, none of them Harry's. But it was Ron who was victim on this occasion.

'I wonder if you could enlighten us, Mr Weasley?'

'Sorry but I've forgotten, professor.' A few students laughed, and Dean Thomas winked at Ron.

'How ironic,' Professor Black sneered. 'It would seem you are a joker like those twin brothers. You however, seem not to have inherited they're aptitude for potions. Perhaps Mr Malfoy could jog your memory.'

'Lethe River Water, sir.'

'Quite right Mr Malfoy, quite right. 10 points to Slytherin.' Malfoy wore a smug look of pride at being the first student to answer correctly.

'Now, who can tell me which of the potions within Mr Jigger's book would reverse the affects of The Draught of Living Death?' A few more hands raised, again none of them Harry's. Unfortunately he was Black's next target.

'I'm afraid I don't know, sir.'

'A shame, Mr Potter. I would have thought you would have liked to have made a good impression on your first week. Miss Parkinson, please put Mr Potter out of his misery.'

'The Wideye Potion, sir.'

'Thank you, Miss Parkinson, 10 points to Slytherin. And can anyone tell me which plant with curative properties is also know as Burning Bush?'

Black's cool gaze passed over Harry, who relaxed with relief. He passed over Hermione, who was the only hand still raised and the only hand to have been raised throughout. And he landed on a student who seemed to be trying, and failing, to shrink back into the shadows.

'Mr Longbottom, could you tell us the answer?'

Neville went as white as one of the Hogwarts Ghosts.

'I think perhaps Hermione might know the answer sir,' Harry said, hoping to throw Neville a lifeline.

'From what I have heard my colleagues say, I am quite sure Miss Granger knows more about any subject I could care to think of than any other student in this room,' Black said calmly, without moving his attention away from Neville, and making Hermione blush in the process. 'But if Miss Granger does all the work, then what does anybody else learn? Besides, I think Mr Longbottom might just know the answer.'

'D-d-dittany, sir?' Neville stuttered.

'Very good Mr Longbottom. Next time you know the answer, please raise your hand.'

The rest of lesson passed without much incident, just a basic learning of ingredients and potion making techniques. And then it was off to Hagrid's.

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds.

(PS 104-134)


	2. The Leg

(PS 104-134)

The day before Harry's first Quidditch match, he, Ron and Hermione were out in the freezing courtyard during break. Hermione had conjured up a bright blue fire which could be carried around in a glass jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Black crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that he was limping. The trio moved closer together to block the fire from view, they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Black's eye. He looked over.

'What's that you have there, Mr Potter?'

'Quidditch Through the Ages,' Harry said, showing the professor what he had been reading.

'I would have thought that after your performance last week with the Cure for Boils Potion you might think about reading a school book. However, that is not what I meant. The fire, Potter. Hand it over.'

Harry handed the jar to Professor Black.

'Most ingenious. I can only assume, Miss Granger, that this is your handy work. I doubt the boys would even know where to begin with this. I'm holding a little gathering on the last day of term down in the dungeons. I think it would be most pertinent if you attended Miss Granger. It would do you good to get away from these two, we wouldn't want them holding you back now, would we? Good luck tomorrow, Mr Potter. I used to be seeker for Slytherin, you know? I'll be keeping my eye on you very closely. And I'll keep hold of this I think until I have 6 inches on the properties of Moonstone from you.' He plucked Quidditch Through the Ages from Harry's hands and passed Hermione her fire back then limped back across the yard.

'Well, that wasn't creepy at all,' muttered Harry. 'Wonder what's wrong with his leg?'

'Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him,' said Ron.

*

As if Harry didn't have enough to do with Charms homework. Luckily Hermione helped with both. Though she wouldn't never let them copy or do the work for them ('How will you learn?'), she would point Harry and Ron in the right direction and check over their work which helped them get it right anyway.

Harry was feeling restless and wanted his book to take his mind off the nerves about tomorrow so was glad when he finally reached the end of his short essay.

He made his way down to the staff room and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Nothing.

Perhaps Black had left the book in there? It was worth a try. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside - and a horrible scene met his eyes.Black and Filch were inside, alone. Black was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Black bandages.

'Damn that three headed beast!' Black cursed.

Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but-

'Potter, I can see you there,' Black said, adjusting his robes. 'I have been helping Professor Kettleburn with his Thestrals, one of them got a little frisky.'

Harry felt sure this wasn't quite true, but decided it best to keep quiet on the matter.

'I've brought you the essay you asked for, professor,' he said.

'Very well, Mr Potter. Your book is on the desk there. You may take it and leave your work in its place.'

Harry did as he was told and left the staff room. When he got back to the Gryffindor common room he told Ron and Hermione what has just happened.

'But Thestrals don't have three heads,' Hermione noted.

'Of course not, he's been on the third floor where that big dog was!' Rob responded.

'I bet that's where we saw him going on Hallowe'en! He's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to create a diversion!' Harry continued.

Hermione's eyes were wide.

'No - he wouldn't,' she said. 'I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe.'

'Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something,' snapped Ron. 'I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Black. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?'

(PS 135-144)


	3. Quirrell vs Black

(PS 135-144)

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a large puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

'Hi, Hagrid, want any help?' Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

'Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron.'

'Would you mind moving out of the way?' came Malfoy's drawl from behind them. 'Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be a gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to.'

Ron dived at Malfoy and the two boys scuffled around on the floor.

'Oi! Knock i' off you two!' warned Hagrid propping the tree against the wall of the corridor. He shuffled past and picked the boys up by the scruff of their necks. 'That's enough! You're lucky there's no' a teacher 'round or you'd both have been in trouble then.'

Hagrid placed them back on the floor, Ron's eye was bruised, Malfoy's nose was dripping blood.

'You'd better get yehselves to Madam Pomfrey and cleaned up. Let me tell you though, I won't be taking sides if you get told off. Yeh both as bad as each other.'

Malfoy shot Ron one last snidy look and raced off to the Hospital Ward.

'When you've sorted Ron's eye out, you three should come look at the Great Hall, it looks a treat.'

'We'd love to, Hagrid,' said Hermione, 'but, we've only got half an hour before lunch and we need to go to the library'

'The library? Just before the holidays? Bit keen aren't yeh?'

'Oh, we're not working,' Harry told him brightly. 'Ever since you mentioned Nicholas Flannel we've been trying to find out who he is.'

(PS 145-146)

*

Harry and Ron were sat by the fire as they waited on Hermione’s return that night. She was at Black’s gathering, and they were hoping she might spy on him and try and figure out his next move.

Suddenly the portrait swung open and Hermione clambered through then joined the others by the fire.

‘It was a club,’ she explained. 'Apparently an old professor of his had started this thing when he taught at Hogwarts and Black decided to keep it going. Basically he picks students who he thinks are exceptionally talented. He said he’d tried to ask your brother, Bill to join when he was at Hogwarts but he turned him down.’

'Good old Bill,’ Ron smiled.

'Anyway, there isn’t much to report I’m afraid. It was a lot of bragging and not much else, there was no time to snoop around, and too many people there anyway.’

'Who else was there?’ Harry asked.

'Mostly Slytherins, as you might expect. A couple of Ravenclaws. I was the only first year there.’ Harry couldn’t tell if she was blushing at this or whether the fire wasn’t just adding a little bit of colour to her cheeks. 'Oh, and Percy.’

'Percy!’ Ron exclaimed as the portrait swung open once more to reveal none other than Percy himself.

'Have you three seen the time?’ he asked. 'I know school has ended for the term, but I really do think you ought to be getting to bed, especially you Hermione, aren’t you heading back home tomorrow on the Hogwarts Express?’

*

145-157

Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found he had fewer nightmare when he was tied after training.

Wood was a man possessed though. When the twins wouldn't stop dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms one practice, he blew up at them.

'Will you two stop messing around!' he yelled. 'We have a real shot at winning this year, but we can't relax. You two are great Beaters and our Chasers are the best I've known us to ever have. And as good as a seeker as Charlie was, he's not a patch on Harry. But we can't rely on talent alone, we have to put the work in. I truly believe we can win the Championship this year, but we need a team that's focused!'

'Hear, hear!' said George, with more sincerity than Harry expected. If there was one thing to be said for Wood's passion, he could really deliver a rousing speech.

When they finished training that night they dragged themselves tiredly to the Gryffindor common room.

On their way they bumped into Neville who was hopping along, his legs stuck together in a Leg-Lock-Curse.

'Neville!' Harry said in concern, as Katie Bell performed the counter-curse. 'What happened?'

Neville's legs sprang apart and he collapsed, trembling onto Harry.

'Malfoy,' he said shakily. 'I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practise that on.'

'That little git,' said Fred. 'Never been prouder of Ron than when we'd heard he'd given him a nose bleed, were we George?'

'Too right.'

'Why didn't you go to McGonagall?' Alicia Spinnet asked.

'Didn't want any more trouble,' Neville mumbled.

Harry felt in the pocket of his robed and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as he might cry.

'You're worth twelve of Malfoy,' Harry said as they reached the Fat Lady. 'The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin.'

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the Frog.

'Thanks, Harry ...'

They clambered through the portrait hole, after Oliver had given the password, and into the common room. Ron and Hermione were playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her. The team settled down to unwind after their training session.

'I think I'll go to bed,' said Neville. 'D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?'

Harry looked at the card as Ron shouted 'Ha!' in victory. Dumbledore again, the first card he'd ever had. Then he noticed something on the back of the card and gasped.

' _I've found him! _' he whispered.__

__(PS 160-161)_ _

__'A stone that makes gold and stops you ever dying!' said Harry. 'No wonder Black's after it! _Anyone _would want it.'___ _

____'And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry,' said Ron. 'He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?'_ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____Whilst Harry got a pep talk from Wood, Ron and Hermione found a place in the stands for Gryffindor's match against Hufflepuff. Unbeknownst to Harry, they had secretly been practising the Leg-Locker Curse and brought their wands with them. They'd got the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville and we're ready to use it on Black if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry._ _ _ _

____Not that they could see him anywhere. Maybe he only came to support Slytherin, but seeing as he was such a big Quidditch fan that seemed unlikely._ _ _ _

____Back in the changing rooms, Wood had taken Harry aside._ _ _ _

____'I don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if you can get an early catch that would be perfect. Hufflepuff won the championship last year with this very team, they favour a drawn out game racking up points with the Quaffle. And their beaters are very good at aiming, especially at seekers.'_ _ _ _

____'The whole school's out there!' said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. 'Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!'_ _ _ _

____Harry's heart did a somersault._ _ _ _

____'Dumbledore?' he said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard._ _ _ _

____Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. He was safe. There was simply no way that Black would dare to try and hurt him if Dumbledore was watching._ _ _ _

____As the game got underway someone poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy._ _ _ _

____'Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there.'_ _ _ _

____Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle._ _ _ _

____'Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? How about you, Weasley?'_ _ _ _

____Ron didn't answer, he and Hermione were focused on finding out where Black was hiding._ _ _ _

____'You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?' said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later as Hufflepuff took the score to 20-nil. 'It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains.'_ _ _ _

____Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy._ _ _ _

____'I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy,' he stammered._ _ _ _

____Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still searching for Black, said, 'You tell him, Neville.'_ _ _ _

____'Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something.'_ _ _ _

____Ron's nerves were already stretched to breaking point worrying about what Black night be up to._ _ _ _

____'I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word -'_ _ _ _

____'Ron!' said Hermione suddenly. 'Black -!'_ _ _ _

____'What? Where?'_ _ _ _

____Sure enough, Black had just entered the stadium and was settling himself at the back of the stands. At the very moment he sat Harry went into a steep dive, streaking to the ground like a bullet._ _ _ _

____Ron and Hermione jumped up and reached for their wands._ _ _ _

____'You're in luck, Wesley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!' said Malfoy._ _ _ _

____Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help._ _ _ _

____'Come on, Harry!' Hermione screamed as he soared into the air. She realised he had spotted the snitch and Black wasn't trying to dismount him again. She leapt on to her seat, not even noticing Ron and Malfoy rolling on the floor or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe and Goyle._ _ _ _

____Then Harry headed back to the stands, his fist raised and clasping the Golden Snitch._ _ _ _

____The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly._ _ _ _

____'Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor are in the lead!' shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front._ _ _ _

____Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it - the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the pitch Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to Dumbledore's smiling face_ _ _ _

____'Well done,' said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. 'Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror ... been keeping busy ... excellent ...'_ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

______ _ _

What a wonderful start to the new term. Their quick defeat of Hufflepuff meant that Gryffindor were in the lead in the house championship. Odd that Black had missed the start though. That made Harry a little uneasy - was he planning on getting past Fluffy whilst the Quidditch game was in full flow? He aired his thoughts to Ron and Hermione and they all agreed to go to the third floor under the cover of Harry’s invisibility cloak.

Fluffy was still there guarding the trap door. Her three heads raised as the door creeped open. Of course it didn’t appear that there was anyone there, but with three noses Fluffy had quite an acute sense of smell. She snarled at the cloak covered trio and then began to bark and snap, luckily they all sprinted back out at the same time and slammed the door shut. As they panted for breath Professor Quirrell turned the corner. They were about to head away when Black appeared out of nowhere. They were trapped between the two teachers and a three headed dog.

'Quirinus. I thought when we last spoke you hadn’t figured out how to get past the dog,’ Black said in barely a whisper.

'W-w-well, you are of c-c-course c-correct Regulus, however I thought I heard a c-c-commotion and c-came to invest-t-tigate.’

'Now why would you do that, Quirinus? I thought a Ravenclaw would know better than to play games with me, especially when such an important stone is in the balance. Now move along. Though do feel free to let me know if you work out how to get past the beast.’

'Y-yes of c-course Regulus. I’ll get going r-r-right away!’ Quirrell scurried off into the night. Black stared right through the trio at the door between them and Fluffy. His hand twitched as if to move toward the handle, then he thought better of it and turned on his heel, down to the dungeons.

The three friends breathed a sigh of relief and heading back to their dormitory.

'So that’s it then,’ said Harry once they were safely behind the portrait. 'He’s definitely after the Philosopher’s Stone.’

'And it would seem that is only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Black,’ Hermione added in alarm.

'It’ll be gone by next Tuesday,’ said Ron.

(PS 167-195

'It’s tonight,’ said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. 'Black’s going through the trapdoor tonight. He’s found out everything he needs and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note. I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.’

'But, he’s got another one of his Club gatherings tonight, he won’t leave that knowing Black.’

Just then Percy came around the corner.

'Ah, I’ve been looking all over for you.’

'What for?’ asked Ron.

'Actually Ron, it’s Hermione I needed. Black has sent word that tonight’s soirée has been postponed, due to unforeseen circumstances. He will, of course, rearrange in the coming days.’ With that he walked off to find anyone else he could tell the most disappointing news to.

Harry looked nervously at the others and they looked back, just as nervously.

'Right,’ he said, 'here’s what we got to do…’

(PS 196-208)


	4. The End of The Year

(PS 196-208)

It was Quirrell.

‘You!’ gasped Harry.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn’t twitching at all.

'Me,’ he said calmly. 'I wandered whether I’d be meeting you here, Potter.’

'But I thought - Black -’

'Regulus?’ Quirrell laughed and it wasn’t his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. 'Yes, Regulus did seen the type, doesn’t he? So useful to have him skulking around like a little rat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?’

Harry couldn’t take it in. This couldn’t be true, it couldn’t.

'But Black tried to kill me!’

'No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Black at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I’d have got you off that broom. I’d have managed it before then if Black hadn’t been muttering a counter curse, trying to save you ’

'Black was trying to save me?’

'Of course,’ said Quirrell coolly. 'Where do you think he was the next match. He cornered me to make sure I didn’t try it again. Funny, really … He needn’t have bothered. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything with Dumbledore watching anyway. Doesn’t matter anyway, after all I’m going to kill you to tonight. Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang or of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Hallowe'en like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.'

' _You _let the troll in?'__

__'Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls - you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Black, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three headed dog didn't even manage to bite Black's leg off properly. Now wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this._ _

__It was only then that Harry realised what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised._ _

__'The mirror is the key to finding the Stone,' Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. 'Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this ... but he's in London ... I'll be far away by the time he gets back ...'_ _

____

All Harry could think of was to keep Quirrell taking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror.

'I saw you and Black up on the Third Floor just before Easter - ’ he blurted out.

'Yes,’ said Quirrell idly, waking around the mirror, to look at the back. 'He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side …’

Quirrell came back out from behind the Mirror and stared hungrily into it.

'I see the Stone ... I'm presenting it to my master ... but where is it?'

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He _had _to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.__

____

'But Black always seemed to hate me so much.’

'Oh, he does,’ said Quirrell casually, 'heavens, yes. His brother was good friends with your father at Hogwarts. Regulus never really saw eye to eye with them, though. But he never wanted you _dead _’__

____

__'But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing - I thought Black was threatening you ...'_ _

__For the first time, a spasm of dear flittered across Quirrell's face._ _

__'Sometimes,' he said, 'I find it hard to follow my masters instructions - he is a great Wizard and I am weak -'_ _

__(PS 211-217)_ _

____

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. 'Useful things, Invisibility Cloaks … your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here.’

'And there’s something else …’

'Fire away.’

'Quirrell said Black -’

’Professor Black, Harry.’

'Yes, him - Quirrell said he hates me because his brother was friends with my father. Is that true?’

'Well, it is true - family is a funny thing, isn’t it? I suppose that if Regulus could have chosen his brother it wouldn’t have been the one he got. I suppose their relationship wasn’t unlike that which you have with your cousin. But family is family. I suppose that Professor Black spent so much time saving you this year to make up for the fact that his brother couldn’t be here to protect his best friend’s son.’

'What happened to his brother, Professor.’

'That, my dear boy is something you may learn in time, but alas, I don’t think it’s right I tell you at this moment in time.’

'And sir, there’s just one more thing…’

'Just the one?’

'How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?’

'Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that…’

(PS 217-223)


	5. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: Return to Hogwarts

(CS 7-60)

‘Can you believe our luck?’ said Ron miserably, bending down to pick up Scabbers the rat. 'Of all the trees we could’ve hit, we had to get one that hits back.’

'Yes,’ said a cold voice from behind them. 'It is a shame you hit such an important and unique tree. Professor Sprout will have to tend to it for a long time to come to restore it to it’s full health.’

Harry froze. He knew that voice. It was Professor Black, the Potions Master. He hated Harry, who had a feeling that maybe he’d have been better off with the tree. He and Ron turned around sheepishly. There he was, in the moonlight, looking paler than ever. He held a broomstick, clearly that’s how he’d managed to find them so quickly.

'I think you two had better follow me.’ The boys followed.

Not daring to even look at each other, Harry and Ron followed Black into the castle, but rather than heading to the festivities of the Welcoming Banquet in the Great Hall he led then down a narrow stone staircase into the dungeons 

He opened a door halfway down a cold passageway. 'In you both go, please.’

They entered Black’s office, almost bare save for his desk and the chairs. There was also a small bookcases, full of potion books, and a glass case with a golden locket located inside. On his desk was a copy of the Evening Prophet with the incriminating headline: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES.

Black took his seat behind his desk.

'So, can either of you explain what it was exactly you were thinking?

'Well, professor,’ Harry began, 'the barrier at King’s Cross station wouldn’t let us through. But obviously we had to get to school somehow … So we flew in the car.’

'I can only assume, Mr Weasley, that the car belonged to your father, whom I believe works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry.’ His black eyes pierced into Ron who sank into his chair. 'Tell me, Mr Potter, why did you not just send forward an owl to inform us of your plight? In fact if you just waited for 15 minutes, maybe half an hour I’m sure that Mr Weasley’s parents would have returned and they would probably have had some better idea of how to proceed than this hairbrained attempt that has you seen by Muggles on multiple occasions.’

At this his brandished the newspaper on his desk. Harry get as though he just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree’s larger branches. If anyone find out Mr Weasley had bewitched the car … he hadn’t thought of that …

'Now, you may be relieved to know that as I am not your Head of House, I have no ability to expel you. Wait here whilst I fetch someone who does have that ability. Feel free to read the paper. But do not touch anything else in my office.’

Harry and Ron state at each other, white-face, neither dared to read the full extent of their troublemaking in the Evening Prophet. And they were hardly better off with McGonagall. She might be fairer than Black, but she was still extremely strict.

Ten minutes later, Black returned, and sure enough it was Professor McGonagall who accompanied him. Harry had seen Professor McGonagall angry on several occasions, but either he had forgotten just how thin his mouth could go, or he had never seen her this angry before.

'Professor Black explains to me that the barrier at King’s Cross would not let you through. I also have to wonder why you did not send word with an owl. You do have an owl, don’t you, Mr Potter?’

'Yes, professor, but I - I didn’t think -’

'That,’ said Professor McGonagall, 'is obvious.’

There was a knock on the office for and Black opened it with a glint of success in his eye. There stood the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.

Harry's whole body went numb. Dumbledore was looking unusually grave. He started down his very crooked nose at them and Harry suddenly found himself wishing he and Ron were still being beaten up by the Whomping Willow.

There was a long silence. Then Dumbledore said, 'Please explain why you did this.'

It would have been better if he had shouted. Harry hated the disappointment in his voice. For some reason, he was unable to look Dumbledore in the eyes, and spoke instead to his knees. He told Dumbledore everything except that Mr Weasley owned the bewitched car, making it sound as though he and Ron had happened to find a flying car parked outside the station. He knew Dumbledore would see through this at once, but Dumbledore asked no questions about the car. When Harry had finished, he merely continued to peer at them through his spectacles.

'We’ll go and get our stuff,’ said Ron in a hopeless sort of voice

'What are you taking about, Weasley?’ barked Professor McGonagall.

'Well, you’re expelling us, aren’t you?’ said Ron.

Harry looked quickly at Dumbledore

'Not today, Mr Weasley,’ said Dumbledore. 'But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both of your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you.’

Black’s eyes narrowed in anger at this leniency, but he said nothing.

'Now, Regulus, it is time we headed back to the feast. I have a few notices to give and there’s a delicious looking custard tart I want to sample. Minerva, I trust you will look after these boys.’ And with that Dumbledore left with Black in tow, leaving them alone with Professor McGonagall, who was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle.

(CS 65-92)


	6. The Slug Club

(CS 65-92)

The door flew open at once. Lockhart beamed down at him.

‘Ah, here’s the scallywag!’ he said. 'Come in, Harry, come in.’

Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart. He had even signed a few of them. Another large pile last on his desk.

'You can address the envelopes!’ Lockhart told Harry, as though this was a huge treat. 'This first one’s to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her - huge fan of mine.’

The minutes snailed by. Harry let Lockhart’s voice wash over him, occasionally saying, 'Mmm’ and 'Right’ and 'Yeah’. Now and then he caught a phrase like 'Fame’s a fickle friend, Harry’ or 'Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that.’

After a while Lockhart said, 'Harry, I hope you don’t have plans for Hallowe'en.’

Harry groaned internally and hoped he wasn’t going to get roped into helping with more fanmail.

'Only, Professor Black and I are having this little get together for exceptional students and, obviously you should be there. Now Harry, don’t start getting the wrong idea, I’m not encouraging you to hog the limelight from others, but it would be good practice to learn how to remain modest at social events. So what do you say, will you come?’

'Err-’

'Oh my, speechless. I have been known to have that effect on many a young witch and wizard. I can’t possibly imagine what it must be like to get an invitation from me!’

'Yeah…’

'Come now Harry, let us continue with our current endeavours. This next one’s for a dear little lady who lives down by Bodmin Moor, still grateful for my help with all that beastly trouble all those years ago …’

The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the many moving faces of Lockhart watching him.

(CS 92-93)

It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Harry went straight up to the dormitory. Ron wasn't back yet. Harry pulled on his pyjamas, got into bed and waited. Half an hour later, Ron arrived, nursing his right arm and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened room.

'My muscles have all seized up,’ he groaned, sinking on his bed. 'Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch Cup before he was satisfied. I wouldn’t have minded so much, but Black’s name was all over it! He was Captain as well as seeker you know - never lost a match apparently. You’d think Filch was in love with him the way he went on! And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to shift the slime … How was it with Lockhart?’

'Well, funny you should mention Black,' said Harry, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Neville, Dean and Seamus, 'because Lockhart is now helping him out with his little club and has invited my to the next meeting.’

'You won’t be going, of course?’

'What, and miss out on Lockhart annoying Black? No chance. Besides you know Hermione will be going again when she knows Lockhart’s going to be there, someone’s got to pull her away at some point!’

He then told Ron about the voice he had heard in Lockhart’s office.

'And Lockhart didn’t hear it?’ said Ron. Harry could see him downing in the moonlight. ’D'you think he was lying? But I don’t get it - even someone invisible would’ve had to open the door.’

'I know,'said Harry, lying back in his four-poster and staring at the canopy above him. 'I don’t get it, either.’

(CS 94-99)

'I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt,’ Harry said.

Nearly Headless Nick stopped in his tracks and Harry walked right through him. He wished he hadn’t; it was like string through an icy shower.

'But there is something you could do for me,’ said Nick excitedly. 'Harry - would I be asking too much - but no, you wouldn’t want - ’

'What is it?’ said Harry.

'Well, this Hallowe'en will be my five hundredth deathday,’ said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up and looking dignified.

'Oh,’ said Harry, not sure whether he should look sorry or happy about this. 'Right.’

'I’m holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honour if you would attend. Mr Weasley and Miss Granger would be most welcome too, of course - but I dare say you’d rather go to the school feast?’ He watched Harry on tenterhooks.

'Well, the thing is Hermione and I are already going to Professor Back’s Slug Club dinner,’ Harry said. 'But I’ll ask Ron for you, and I’m sure we can drop by on the way back!’ he added quickly, noting Nearly Headless Nick’s deflation. He did seem to brighten at this.

'Oh really? That would be wonderful! Harry Potter, at my Deathday Party! And,’ he hesitated, looking excited, 'do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me?’

'Of - of course,’ said Harry

Nearly Headless Nick beamed at him.

(CS 100)

*

At seven o'clock on Hallowe'en evening Harry, Ron and Hermione walked down to the doors of the Great Hall.

'Well, have fun you two,’ said Ron.

'Aren’t you going to Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday Party?’ asked Hermione.

'I thought about it, but apparently Dumbledore’s booked a troupe of dancing skeletons, and I’d rather see that than celebrate the day someone died!’ Ron said, heading into the Great Hall and giving one final cheery wave.

'Well really, some people … ’ muttered Hermione as she and Harry trudged down to the dungeons. Harry noticed, as they passed, that the passageway to Nearly Headless Nick’s party had been lined with candles, though the effect was far from cheerful: these were long, thin, jet black tapers, all burning bright blue, carrying a dim, ghostly light.

However, the corridor to The Slug Club party was much more brightly decorated, with Pumpkins enchanted to sing, Spiders scurrying this way and that, and paper garlands in garish shades of Orange, Purples and Greens. Harry had a feeling that Lockhart was behind these.

'Harry, my dear boy, welcome, welcome!’ greeted Lockhart at they walked through the door. 'And Miss Granger, how wonderful to see you both.’

Hermione blushed at this and Harry could have sworn she did a little curtsey. 'Please, come over here, sit next to me. We’re just waiting on Mr Weasley and Miss Clearwater, both are prefects so I’m sure they’re just running a few errands and will be with us shortly and then we can get on with the dinner.’

There were about a dozen other students in the room, most Harry recognised, all were older than Hermione and himself. There was Eddie Carmichael, a Ravenclaw third year, Cedric Diggory, a fourth year and Hufflepuff's seeker, and Head Girl Nicola Nightingale, also a Ravenclaw. There were more Slytherins than anything though. Professor Black himself seemed to be watching everyone intently from the shadows. Eventually the missing prefects arrived and everyone sat around the table for the lavish spread before them.

'Welcome,’ Black began in his quiet, calculating voice. 'There are a few new faces this year, I think you’ll get along very well here, you’re in good company. I have great faith that those around this table will do great things in this world of ours.’

'Wonderful introduction, Professor Black,’ bellowed Lockhart, shocking everyone at the table. 'I thought it would be fun if everyone introduced themselves around the table, just so we all know who each other is. I’d start, but let’s be honest, you all know who I am! Five time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming Smile Award, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League Gilderoy Lockhart, of course. Order of Merlin, Third Class I might add! And this wonderful chap besides me is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.’

'Yes, why is Mr Potter here, Gilderoy?’ asked Black with an air of menace that Lockhart didn’t seem to notice.

'Well, I’m glad you asked that. You see when I was at school, the founder of this dear club, Professor Slughorn, overlooked my talent year in, year out. And then when he retired and you took his place as Potions Master and also decided to keep his Club going you also neglected to bring me in to the fold. And look at me now. I simply wish for you to not repeat history’s mistakes.’

'So what is it that you think makes Potter so special?’

Harry, who was starting to wish he hadn’t come, kept his head down and blew on his soup.

'For starters he has gone up against He Who Must Not Be Named and come out triumphant!’

'Yes, well he was a mere baby the first time, and from what Dumbledore says it’s more due to his good fortune of having a mother who cares for him than anything else. As for May’s incident, I doubt he would have been able to even get past that three headed dog were it not for his dear friends. Particularly Miss Granger, who is a most ferocious researcher. Now there’s a young witch who knows her Griffins from her Hippogriffs.’

'I suppose you have a point there, but you must admit that he’s a most prodigious Quidditch player - youngest house player in over a century I believe.’

'Must I admit that? I have to say, I’ve only seen Potter play once. If I remember correctly, he struggled to stay on his broom and won by default after swallowing the Snitch. I don’t want to come across an authority on the subject, but I was Captain and Seeker during my time at Hogwarts. And never once lost a match I might add. Never missed one either, unlike Mr Potter, here. Let’s agree to the boy the benefit of the right, shall we, and move on. Miss Granger, I do believe you’re next to introduce yourself.’

*

'Well,’ said Harry once the dinner was finished and he and Hermione had left the dungeon. 'That was tense, I’m glad that’s over.’ He couldn’t wait to get to the Great Hall, hopefully the skeleton dancers would still be there.

'Where are you going?’ asked Hermione as he began to climb the stairs. 'You said to Nick that you’d visit on the way back. A promise is a promise, Harry.’ Reluctantly Harry agreed and they trudged down the dark, candlelit corridor to Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday Celebrations.

They temperature plummeted with every step they took. Harry shivered and drew his robes tightly around him. The dungeon was an incredible sight. A chandelier blazed midnight blue overhead with a thousand jet black candles. Their breath froze in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer. And there were hundreds of pearly-white translucent people, most of whom were intently watching what seemed to be a game of hockey. They noticed Nearly Headless Nick standing morosely to the side.

'Hi, Nick,’ said Harry.

'My dear friends, you made it,’ beamed Nick. 'I’m afraid there’s not much point, the Headless Hunt has arrived so the focus will be all on them now.’

As if to prove his point a head that seemed to be being used as a puck sailed past. A body ran over to pick it up. The now complete ghost jogged back to Harry, Hermione and Nick.

'Live 'uns!’ he exclaimed. 'Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, Head of the Headless Hunt, at your service,’ he said bowing low so that his head rolled onto the floor. The crowd howled with laughter.

'Very amusing,’ said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.

'Don’t mind Nick!’ shouted Sir Patrick’s head from the floor. 'Still upset we won’t let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say - look at the fellow -’

'I think,’ said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, 'Nick’s, very - frightening and - er -’

'Ha!’ yelled Sir Patrick’s head. 'Bet he asked you to say that!’ And with that he kicked his head back into the dancefloor where the game had been taking place.

'Well thank you for trying, Harry,’ moped Nick. 'There’s no need to stay any longer, go enjoy the end of the feast. I daresay our banquet's not quite suitable,’ he said, motioning to what seemed to be a platter of mouldy foods.

The feast had finished by the time Harry and Hermione reached the Great Hall, so they continued up to the dormitory to find out from Ron if those dancing skeletons really had shown up.


	7. Mrs Norris and Moaning Myrtle

When Harry and Hermione got back to the Gryffindor common room the atmosphere was electric. Clearly they’d missed out on something good. They find Ron by the window in animated conversation with Dean and Seamus.

‘Where have you two been?!’ he asked Harry and Hermione wide eyed when he noticed them. 'You’ve just missed the most amazing thing! Someone finally got Mrs Norris.’

'Dead,’ Seamus interjected, 'stiff as a board, hanging from a torch up by the second floor bathrooms.’

'That’s terrible!’ screamed Hermione.

'Filch went absolutely mental,’ said Ron.

'I’m not surprised,’ said Harry. 'Do they know who’s behind it?’

'No, but I have an idea,’ said Ron, 'There was some writing on the wall, ’The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, Enemies of the Heir, beware.’ And you can guess who was loving every minute of it. Malfoy.’

'You’ll be next, mudbloods. That’s what he said,’ sighed Dean. 'That’s me and you that is, Hermione.’

They all sat back in thought. 'What do you think this Chamber of Secrets is?’ asked Harry eventually.

'Dunno,’ said Ron, 'it rings a bell though, I’m sure it was Bill who told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once. I’d ask one of the others, but Percy’s not got back yet, Ginny’s in her dormitory crying her eyes out - I tried to tell her we’re better off without Mrs Norris, but she’s always loved cats - and the twins, well…’ he trailed off and nodded to where the twins were reenacting Filch’s reaction to finding Mrs Norris in front of most of the Gryffindor’s. 'Doubt we’ll get their attention any time soon.’  
*

In the days that passed it was revealed that Mrs Norris wasn't dead, just petrified. Not that this made Ginny feel much better. Neither she nor the twins could remember anything about the secret chamber, and Percy was never around long enough to ask.

Filch kept the attack fresh in everyone’s minds by pacing the spot where Mrs Norris had been attacked, as though the attacker might come back. Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with 'Mrs Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Remover,’ but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn’t guarding the screen of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put then in detention for things like 'breathing loudly’ and 'looking happy’

The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but now she was doing nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.

Harry and Ron were at the back of the library finishing a three-foot long composition on 'The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards’ that Professor Binns had set.

'I don’t believe it, I’m still eight inches short …’ said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll, 'and Hermione’s done four foot seven inches and her writing’s tiny.’

At that moment Hermione herself emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them.

’All the copies of Hogwarts: A History have been taken out,’ she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. 'And there’s a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn’t left my copy at home, but I couldn’t fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books.’

'Why do you want it?’ said Harry.

'The same reason everyone else wants it,’ said Hermione, 'to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets.’

'What’s that?’ said Harry quickly.

'That’s just it, I can’t remember,’ said Hermione, buying her lip. 'And I can’t find the story anywhere else _’

'Hermione, let me read your composition,’ said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

'No, I won’t,’ said Hermione, suddenly severe. 'You’ve had ten days to finish it.’

'I only need another another two inches, go on …’

The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering.

(CS 112-114)

'I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony,’ Ron told Harry and Hermione, as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. 'But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn’t be in his house if you paid me honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I’d’ve got the train straight back home …’

Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn’t say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly.

Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it was yesterday, the small house that had spoken in his ear when he'd placed the Hat on his head a year before.

_'You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the road to greatness, no doubt about that ...' ___

__But Harry, who had heard of Slytherin house's reputation for turning out dark wizards, had thought desperately, 'Not Slytherin!' and the Hat had said, _'Oh, well, if you're sure ... better be Gryffindor ...' _____

____As they were shunted along in the throng, Colin Creevy went past._ _ _ _

____'Hiya, Harry!’_ _ _ _

____'Hullo, Colin,’ said Harry automatically._ _ _ _

____The crowd thinned and they were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty._ _ _ _

____’D'you really think there’s a Chamber of Secrets?’ Ron asked Hermione._ _ _ _

____'I don’t know,’ she said, frowning. 'Dumbledore hasn’t been able to cure Mrs Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be - well - human.’_ _ _ _

____As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened._ _ _ _

____'That’s where Filch has been keeping guard,’ Ron muttered._ _ _ _

____They looked at each other. The corridor was deserted._ _ _ _

____'Can’t hurt to poke around,’ said Harry, dropping his bag and getting on his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues._ _ _ _

____'Scorch marks!’ he said. 'Here - and here -’_ _ _ _

____'Come and look at this!’ said Hermione. 'This is funny …’_ _ _ _

____Harry got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hermione was pointing to the topmost page, where around twenty sides were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack in the glass. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as if they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside._ _ _ _

____'There were spiders acting like this on Hallowe'en too.’ said Hermione. 'I just assumed it was part of the decorations at the time. I’ve never seen them act like that before though, have you?’_ _ _ _

____'No,’ said Harry, 'have you, Ron? Ron?’_ _ _ _

____He looked over his shoulder. Ron was standing well back, and send to be fighting the impulse to run._ _ _ _

____'What’s up?’ said Harry._ _ _ _

____'I - don’t - like - spiders,“ said Ron tensely._ _ _ _

____'I never knew that,’ said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. 'You’ve used spiders in potions loads of times.’_ _ _ _

____'I don’t mind them dead,’ said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but the window, 'I just don’t like the way they move …’_ _ _ _

____Hermione giggled._ _ _ _

____'It’s not funny,’ said Ron, fiercely. 'If you must know, when I was the, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a dirty great big spider because I broke his toy broomstick. You wouldn’t like them either if you’d been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and …’_ _ _ _

____He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry said, 'Didn’t you say there was water on the floor? Where did that come from?’_ _ _ _

____'It was about here,’ said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch’s chair and pointing. 'Level with this door.’_ _ _ _

____He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he’d been burner._ _ _ _

____'What’s the matter?’ said Harry._ _ _ _

____'Can’t go in there,’ said Ron gruffly, 'that’s a girls’ toilet.’_ _ _ _

____'Oh, Ron, there won’t be anyone in there,'said Hermione, standing up and coming over. 'That’s Moaning Myrtle’s place. Come on, let’s take a look.’_ _ _ _

____'Who’s Moaning Myrtle?’ asked Ron. But it was too late, Hermione had already ignored the large 'Out of Order’ sign and opened the door._ _ _ _

____(CS 118-139)_ _ _ _


	8. Talking in Tongues

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry, Ron and Hermione signed her list; they had heard Malfoy was staying, which struck them as suspicious. The holidays would be a perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him.

Unfortunately, the potion was only half-finished. They still needed the Bicorn horn and the Boomslang skin, and the only place they were going to get them was from Black’s private stores. Harry felt he’d rather face Slytherin’s legendary monster than have Black catch him robbing his office.

‘What we need,’ said Hermione briskly, as Thursday afternoon’s double Potions lesson loomed nearer, 'is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Black’s office and take what we need.’

Harry and Ron looked at her nervously.

'I think I’d better do the actual stealing,’ Hermione continued, in a matter of fact tone. 'You two will be expelled if you get in any more trouble, and I’ve got a clean record so all you need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Black busy for five minutes or so.’

Harry smiled feebly. Deliberately causing mayhem in Black’s Potions class was about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.

Potions lesson took place in one of the larger dungeons. Thursday afternoon’s lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Black glided through the fumes, advising here and there where someone was going wrong.

'Mr Potter, I think you put in one or two too many drops of Moly Essence, your Babbling Beverage is bubbling it’s way to being barely blithering,’ Black said to sniggers from the Slytherins. 'Mr Longbottom, yours has that ruby glow that one would expect in this particular potion. I daresay that yours is the most accurate in the room. How would you correct Mr Potter’s problem?’

Neville moved across to Harry’s cauldron and looked at his maroon mess.

'Well sir, not to sound cliché, but I think one eye of newt should do it. Finely diced and stirred in anticlockwise.’

Harry began to follow Neville’s instructions with Black keeping a close watch in case he messed up again. This was when Ron took the opportunity to light up one of Fred’s Filibuster fireworks which promptly exploded in Seamus’s cauldron, splattering the whole class.

'Haa!’ shrieked Seamus, who was one of many to get a mouthful. 'Ime noshop! Ime noshop sah nog ehheerveh!’

Confusion hit the room as students tried to talk, but their tongues moved in riddles as Black tried to restore calm to his classroom. Harry saw Hermione slip quietly out of the door.

'When I find who did this,’ said Black, venemously as he fished the blackened remains of the firework from Seamus’s cauldron, 'there will be consequences.’ As half the class went to Black’s desk for the antidote, spouting nonsense at each other, Harry saw Hermione slide back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.

Ten minutes later the lesson was over and Harry, Ron and Hermione were hurrying back to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Hermione threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.

'It’ll be ready in a fortnight,’ she said happily.

*

The worst thing about Black was that when he didn’t have one student to blame, the whole class suffered. A week later he devised his worse one yet. He decided it was worth the class learning about where their potion ingredients came from.

'Today you will be collecting an essential ingredient in every potion maker’s cupboard,’ he said darkly. 'You will be harvesting venom from an adder.’

With a flourish he removed the cloak that lay over the cube atop his desk. The cube, it turned out, was a cage full of angry adders.

'In your pairs you will each take a snake and harvest a vial of venom. As soon as your vial is full you may leave. If you have not finished filling your vial by the time the bell sounds in two hours, tough. You stay until that vial is full.’ As if this wasn’t punishment enough, Black then began to pair up the students. One Gryffindor with one Slytherin.

'Miss Granger and Miss Parkinson I think. Miss Patil and Miss Davis please. Miss Greengrass and Miss Brown. Miss Bulstrode…’

Black’s eyes scanned the dungeon. Millicent Bulstrode was the last female student left, though she was double the size of most the boys so every Griffdor male held their breath.

'I think Mr Weasley would be a good partner for you.’

Ron looked nervously at Harry who murmured a quick g'luck.

'Mr Zabini and Mr Finnegan. Mr Nott and Mr Thomas. Mr Potter, I think it would be good for you and Mr Malfoy to put aside your differences. Maybe he might pick a thing or two up about how to be a seeker.’ So Black was still bitter about that defeat. Good to know, thought Harry, as he crossed the dungeon to his new partner.

'Potter,’ said Malfoy, stiffly nodding in greeting.

'Malfoy,’ Harry returned.

'Oh dear,’ Black continued, looking at who was left. 'We have an odd number of students. Mr Crabbe, Mr Goyle, I suppose if we put you together with Mr Longbottom though that would balance things out nicely.’

And so the pairs each received an adder with one partner holding the adder down in it’s restraint tube, and the other extracting the venom. Malfoy decided that would be the one to extract the venom leaving Harry to hold the snake in place.

The snake looked at Harry.

’What’s going on?’ the adder asked.

'We just need to take some of your venom,’ said Harry, 'if you don’t mind. Then we’ll let you get back to slithering around.’ He noticed that Neville had managed to convince Crabbe and Goyle that they were best to hold the snake whilst he extracted the venom and had almost got a quarter of a vial.

'Well I need my venom,’ the snake said. 'How much do you need?’

'Just a vial please. You see that pasty white boy, he has it in his hands.’ Harry pointed at Malfoy, who seemed to be whiter than normal.

'W-what are you doing?’ he asked.

'Telling the snake what we want from him,’ said Harry.

The snake leaned forward and sank her teeth through the film over the vial and began to shoot venom out of her fangs, convulsing in the act. When she had finished Harry took the adder over to Black, who was making a potion of some kind.

'Having trouble with the snake are you Potter?’ said Black, not looking up from his cauldron.

'Not at all, Professor,’ said Harry. 'Malfoy and I have finished.’ Black looked at Harry.

'Then where is your vial?’

Harry turned to Malfoy, but he was still rooted to the spot. He noticed Black and Harry looking at him and slowly walked past the other students to join them. He handed the vial to Black.

'It’s those slow reflexes that won’t do you any good at Quidditch,’ said Black. He looked over the vial, as if the two of them were trying to deceive him. 'Very well, you may leave.’

Harry and Malfoy packed their belongings in silence the left the dungeon.

'You never told me you were a Parselmouth,’ Malfoy said one the door was closed behind them.

'A what?’ said Harry, confused.

'A Parselmouth. It means you can talk to snakes.’

'I’ve done it all my life. Is that unusual?’ asked Harry.

'Yes, in fact I think the last known Parselmouth was The Dark Lord himself. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth too y'know. Perhaps you should have taken me up on my offer last year. We’d have been great allies you know.’

Harry felt a shudder go through him. Not at the thought of being Malfoy’s friend (though that too was not something he wanted to dwell on), but the fact that he shared a trait with both Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort. The Sorting Hat had said he’d have been great in Slytherin. Maybe this is what he meant.

'Well wouldn’t that be a turn up for the books if Harry Potter was the Heir of Slytherin?’ Draco continued. They couldn’t talk much longer though as the dungeon door opened and through it came Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.

'Ah good, it’s you two,’ said Malfoy upon seeing his cronies. 'Come in, let’s go back to the dorm.’ He led them down the corridor to the Slytherin Dormitories leaving Harry with Neville.

'Are you ok, Harry?’ asked Neville. 'You look pale.’

'No, I’m fine. Just glad to see the back of Malfoy.’

With that the two boys took the long journey up to the Gryffindor Tower.

*

It didn’t take too long for Hermione to return, after all, both she and Pansy were practical girls, though it was well into the evening before Ron got there, covered in bites. He threw himself on to the comfiest chair available and looked at Harry and Hermione with an exasperated expression.

‘Most of the swelling’s gone down now,’ Ron said. 'I’ve just got to take one more dose of anti-venom and then I should be fine according to Black. Bulstrode is a monster by the way. I am never working with her again - I’d rather spew slugs!’

'Well I’m glad you’re ok, Ron,’ said Hermione, 'but Harry’s got something to tell you.’

'Yeah, well - the thing is -’ said Harry, not sure how Ron was going to take what he was about to say. 'I can talk to snakes …’

'You’re a Parselmouth? How long have you known?’

'Well, I accidentally at a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once - long story - but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. That was before I knew I was a wizard.’

'A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?’ Ron repeated faintly.

'I thought loads of people here would be able to do it!’ said Harry.

'Oh no they can’t’ said Ron. 'It’s not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad.’

'Yeah I know,’ said Harry. 'Malfoy said that Voldemort and Slytherin could speak it too.’

'I don’t know about Voldemort,’ said Hermione, 'though if anyone would be able to tell you that it’s Malfoy. Slytherin definitely could though, he was famous for it. That’s why his symbol is a serpent.’

'At least we know Malfoy won’t tell anyone,’ said Ron. 'He wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’re the Heir of Slytherin now, would he?’

*

Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the hangings round his four-poster he watched the snow starting to drift past the tower window and wondered.

Could he be related to Salazar Slytherin in some way? Or even worse, Voldemort? He didn't know anything about his father's family after all, but he had been friends with Professor Black's brother, and Professor Black was a Slytherin, so it stood that his brother probably was too. But Harry knew his dad had been a Gryffindor, he'd been a chaser on the Gryffindor team. Why would he have been friends with a Slytherin?

Quietly, Harry tried to say something in Parseltongue. The words wouldn't come. It seemed he had to be face to face with a snake to do it 

'But I'm in Gryffindor to,' Harry thought. 'The Sorting Hat wouldn't have put me in here if I had Slytherin blood ...'

'Ah,' said a nasty little voice in his brain, 'But the Sorting Hat _wanted _to put you in Slytherin, don't you remember?'__

__Harry turned over. Maybe his dad had fought to be placed in Gryffindor too. Perhaps there were student records in the Library where he'd be able to find more about his family._ _

__But then again, perhaps he didn't want to find out._ _


	9. Another Attack

The next morning, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of term was cancelled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would only trust herself with, though Neville got to assist. It was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs Norris and Colin Creevy.

Harry decided to take the opportunity to get some Quidditch practice in, especially since he’d heard that Black was giving Malfoy private lessons after the way Harry beat him in their previous game. He changed into his Quidditch robes, grabbed his Nimbus 2000 and said bye to Ron and Hermione who had opted to stay by the warmth of the fire, paying Wizard Chess.

As he exited the portrait hole he had it. The same voice he’d heard in Lockhart’s office.

'Come to me … Let me taste you …’

Harry followed the voice down stairs and along corridors.

'Blood … Must kill again … Too long …’

He hurried through the castle, past classrooms, always listening. And then he tripped.

He turned to squint at what he’d fallen over, and felt as though his stomach had dissolved.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn’t all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin’s.

Harry had to find a teacher; McGonagall was close by. He headed down the stairs and along the corridor to her classroom and rapped on the door.

'Enter,’ came her voice from within. Harry pushed open the door tentatively and walked into the classroom full of sixth years, who all turned to look at him. Harry saw Wood beaming from ear to ear at the sight of Harry in his Quidditch robes.

'Yes, Mr Potter, how may I help?’ Harry made his way through the desks to McGonagall.

'There’s been another attack, Professor,’ said Harry quietly. McGonagall’s eyes flickered up, her mouth went thin and her complexion paled.

'Who?’ she asked. 'Where?’

'Upstairs, it’s Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick.’

'Nick?’ she said, sounding just as concerned as Harry was that whatever creature was loose it could harm a ghost as well. 'Take me there,’ she said, before instructing her class to continue practising the spell they were learning.

Harry led her back to the scene of the attack where she bent down to look at the victims.

'I think we’d better get these two down to Madame Pomfrey,’ she said swishing her wand around. Justin and Nick rose a couple of feet and McGonagall led them to the infirmary.

Once they were in Madame Pomfrey’s capable hands McGonagall turned to Harry and said, 'I think you had better follow me.’

They walked in a somber silence through the castle before doing at a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

'Sherbet Lemon!’ McGonagall said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life, and hopped aside as the wash behind him split in two. Harry couldn’t fail to be amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral statice which was moving smoothly upwards, like an escalator. As he and McGonagall stepped onto it, Harry heard the wall thud closed behind them. They rose upwards in circles, higher and higher, until at last, slightly dizzy, Harry could see a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffon.

This must be where Dumbledore lived.

(CS 154-155)

'It’s a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day,’ said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. 'He’s really very handsome most of the time: wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers and they make highly faithful pets.’

Dumbledore settled himself in the high-backed chair behind the desk and fixed Harry with his penetrating, light-blue stare.

'Harry, is there anything you want to tell me?’ he asked gently. 'Anything at all.’

Harry thought about the Polyjuice Potion, simmering away in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. He thought about what Malfoy said, and the fact he could be connected in some way to Slytherin or Voldemort. He thought of the disembodied voice he’d heard twice now…

'No,’ said Harry, 'there isn’t anything, Professor.’

'Very well Harry, but please know I’m always here if you need to talk. There are some burdens too big for one to carry alone,’ he said sagely as there was a large knock at the door. 'Come in.’

In squeezed Hagrid in his giant moleskin overcoat and a snow covered balaclava atop his shaggy head.

'Second one this term, Professor,’ he said brandishing a rooster around the office. 'Oh, sorry, I di'n't know yeh had 'Arry in 'ere with yeh.’

'Not to worry, Hagrid, Harry was just on his way to get ready for his Transfiguration class which starts soon. I suppose you’ll want to put some charms up around the hen-coop?’

'Please, Professor,’ said Hagrid. 'That would be useful. I’ll get righ’ onto it!’

Harry and Hagrid left Dumbledore's office together.

'You alrigh’ 'Arry?’ Hagrid asked as they stepped off the revolving stairs. Harry told Hagrid about Justin and Nick. 'Blimey, a ghost, eh? No one’s safe then are they?’

*

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost, people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.

'At this rate, we'll be the only ones left,' Ron told Harry and Hermione. 'Us, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be.'

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays too. But Harry wasn't surprised most people were leaving. If it wasn't for the Polyjuice Potion he'd be convincing Hermione to leave too. Mind you, even Malfoy wouldn't risk an attack as one of the only remaining Slytherins would he? It would be too obvious that he was behind the attacks.

*

(CS 158-160)

‘The Potion will be useless without Crabbe and Goyle’s hair,’ Hermione said sternly. 'You do want to investigate Malfoy, don’t you?’

'Oh, all right, all right,’ said Harry. 'But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?’

'I’ve already got mine!’ said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. 'Remember when Black paired us off in Potions, and I was with Pansy Parkinson? Well whilst we were wrestling with the snake I managed to pull this out. She thought it was the adder. She’s gone home for Christmas - so I’ll just have to tell the Slytherins I’ve decided come back.’

When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Ron turned to Harry with a doom-laden expression.

'Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?’


	10. The Polyjuice Potion

(CS 160-161)

Hermione ladled large dollops of the Potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling, she shook Pansy Parkinson’s hair out of its bottle into the first glass.

The Potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it has turned a milky grey colour.

'Urgh - essence of Pansy Parkinson,’ said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. 'Bet it tastes disgusting.’

'Add yours, then,' said Hermione.

Harry dropped Goyle's hair into the mirror glass and Ron put Crabbe's into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki colour of a bogey, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown.

'Hang on,' said Harry, as Ron and Hermione reached for their glasses. 'We'd better not all drink them in here: once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit.'

'Good thinking,' said Ron, unlocking the door. 'We'll take stearate cubicles.'

Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice Potion, Harry slipped into the middle cubicle.

'Ready?' he called 

'Ready,' came Ron and Hermione's voices.

'One ... two ... three ...'

Pinching his nose, Harry drank the Potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.

Immediately, his insides started writhing as though he'd just swallowed live snake - doubled up, he wondered whether he was going to be sick - then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very end of his fingers and toes. Next, bringing him gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over his buddy bubbled like hot wax, and before his eyes, his hands began to grow, the fingers thickened, the nails broadened and the knuckles were builging like bolts. His shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down towards his eyebrows; his robes ripped as his chest expanded like a barrel bursting its hoops; his feet were agony in shoes four sizes too small ...

As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Harry lay face down on the cold stone floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the end toilet. With difficulty, he kicked off his shoes and stood up. So this is what it felt like, being Goyle. His large hands trembling, he pulled off his old robes, which were hanging a foot above his ankles, pulled on the spare ones and laced up Goyle’s boat-like shoes. He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and met only the short growth of wiry bristles, low on his forehead. Then he realised that his glasses were clouding his eyes, because Goyle obviously didn’t need then. He took them off and called, 'Are you two OK?’ Goyle’s low rasp of a voice issued from his mouth.

'Yeah,’ came the deep grunt of Crabbe from his right.

'Yes! It worked!’ came Pansy Parkinson’s elated cry from Harry’s left.

Harry unlocked his door and stirred in front of the cracked mirror. Goyle stared back at him out of dull, deep-set eyes. Harry scratched his ear. So did Goyle.

Ron and Hermione opened their doors too. They all stared at each other, each indistinguishable from their Slytherin double.

'This is unbelievable,’ said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe’s flat nose. ’Unbelievable. Nice one, Hermione!’

'Thanks, Ron,’ Hermione said with Pansy’s nasal voice. 'Right, let’s get going, no time to lose the hour is already counting down!’

They opened the door to the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear and set off.

'Don’t swing your arms,’ Hermione snapped at Ron.

'Eh?’

'She’s right, Crabbe holds them sort of stiff …’

'How’s this?’

'Yeah that’s better.’

Hermione led the way down to the dungeons. Neither Harry nor Ron questioned how she knew where the Slytherin Dormitories were, they just assumed by now that she knew most things.

They had been walking around for almost half an hour and were well beneath the castle when she eventually stopped.

'What we need,’ she said, 'is another Slytherin to show us where the dormitories are and help us get in.’

'You mean to say,’ said Ron, 'that our whole plan hinges on whether or not Slytherin walks by in the next thirty minutes?’

At that moment a figure was emerging from a side room. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn’t a Slytherin, it was Percy.

'What are you doing down here?’ said Ron in surprise.

Percy looked affronted.

'That,’ he said stiffly, 'is none of your business. It’s Crabbe, isn’t it?’

'Wh- oh, yeah,’ said Ron.

'Well, get off to your dormitories,' said Percy sternly. 'It’s not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days.’

’You are,’ Ron pointed out.

'I,’ said Percy, drawing himself up, 'am a prefect. Nothing’s about to attack me.’

A voice suddenly echoed behind them Draco Malfoy was strolling towards them, and for the first time in his life, Harry was pleased to see him.

'There you are,’ he drawled, looking at them. 'Pansy, I thought you’d gone home?’

'Well,’ said Hermione, 'I decided to come back. I was looking for you, apparently these two gorms knew where you were, but they didn’t have a clue I don’t think. Then we ran into one of the Weasleys.’ Hermione said whilst Ron gawped. He was looking more like Crabbe by the minute. Malfoy looked witheringly at Percy.

'What are you doing down here, Weasley?’ he sneered.

Percy looked outraged.

'You want to show a bit more respect to a school Prefect!’ he said. 'I don’t like your attitude!’

Malfoy sneered and motioned Harry, Ron and Hermione to follow him. Harry almost said something apologetic to Percy but caught himself just in time.bl he, Ron and Hermione hurried after Malfoy, who said as they turned into the next passage, 'That Peter Weasley -'

'Percy,' Ron corrected him automatically.

'Whatever,' said Malfoy. 'I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed.'

He gave a short, derisive laugh as Hermione let out one of Pansy's trademark cackles.

'As if he could!' she laughed. 'Honestly, that family are the biggest blood traitors to exist. The audacity of some people calling them pure bloods!'

At that moment a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy sniggered and smirked as he walked through it. The others followed.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

'Wait here,' said Malfoy to Harry, Ron and Hermione, motioning them to a trio of empty chairs set back by the fire. 'I'll go and get it - my father's just sent it to me.'

The three of them sat in an uncomfortable silence in the Slytherin common room, wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, surrounded by people who hated them out of their disguises. They did their best to look at home.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper cutting. He passed it to Hermione, who read the cutting quickly and laughed Pansy’s high pitched cackle. She then handed the cutting to Ron who read quickly and let out a forced 'Ha!’.

Finally Harry held it in his hands. It had been clipped from The Daily Prophet, and it said:

_ENQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car._

_Mr Lucius Malfoy, a governor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr Weasley’s resignation._

_'Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute,’ Mr Malfoy told our reporter. 'He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately.’_

_Mr Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she’d set the family ghoul on them. ___

__'Well?’ said Malfoy impatiently, as Harry handed the cutting back to him. 'Don’t you think it’s funny?’_ _

__'Ha, ha,’ said Harry bleakly._ _

__'Arthur Wesley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them.’_ _

__Ron’s - or rather, Crabbe’s - face was contorted with fury._ _

__'What’s the matter with you, Crabbe?’ snapped Malfoy._ _

__'Stomach ache,’ Ron grunted._ _

__'Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those mudbloods a kick from me,’ said Malfoy, snickering._ _

__'Who’s next, Draco?’ asked Hermione as sweet as Pansy could manage._ _

__'I wish I knew,’ Malfoy lamented. 'I hope it’s that jumped-up Granger girl. If only I knew who was behind the attacks, then I’d be able to help them out.’_ _

__Ron’s jaw dropped so that Crabbe’s face looked even more gormless than usual. Fortunately, Malfoy didn’t notice, and Harry, thinking fast, said, 'You must have some idea who’s behind it all …’_ _

__'You know I haven’t, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?’ snapped Malfoy. 'Potter is a Parselmouth, but I doubt it’s him, otherwise he wouldn’t hang and with all those Muggles and blood traitors! And father won’t tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says it was all kept quiet and it’ll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing: last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it’s only a matter of time before one of them’s killed this time,’ he said with relish._ _

__Ron was clenching Crabbe’s gigantic fists, but Hermione stayed calm and said, 'I assume they were caught last time.’_ _

__'Oh, yeah … whoever it was was expelled,’ said Malfoy. 'They’re probably still in Azkaban.’_ _

__'Azkaban?’ said Harry, puzzled._ _

__'Wizard Prison, Goyle!’ Hermione told him with exasperation._ _

__'Honestly, Pansy, if these two were any slower, they’d be going backwards’ laughed Malfoy, to which Hermione reluctantly joined in._ _

__Malfoy shifted restlessly in his chair and said, 'Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs riding of all the Mudblood filth, but not too get mixed up in it. Of course, he’s got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided out Manor last week?’_ _

__Harry tried to force Goyle’s dull face into a look of concern._ _

__'Yeah…’ said Malfoy, 'Luckily, they didn’t find much. Father’s got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we’ve got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor -’_ _

__'Ho!’ said Ron._ _

__Malfoy looked at him. So did Harry. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was slowly lengthening - their hour was up._ _

__Hermione must have noticed too as she said, 'I’ve just realised, all my luggage is still upstairs. Draco, you don’t mind me taking the boys to go and get it, do you?’_ _

__Without waiting for his reply the three of them jumped to their feet a and sprinted the length of the common room, hurried themselves at the stone wall and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn’t noticed anything. Harry could feel his feet slipping around in Goyle’s huge shes and had to hoist up his robes as he shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark Entrance Hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the cupboard where they’d locked Crabbe and Goyle. Leaving their shoes outside the cupboard door, they sprinted up the marble staircase towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom._ _

__'Well, that wasn’t a complete waste of time,’ Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. 'I know we still haven’t found out who’s doing the attacks, but I’m going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoy’s drawing room!’_ _

__With that the three friends went back into their cubicles and changed into their own clothes._ _


	11. Spying and Flying

‘You don’t think it could be Black, do you?’ Harry asked as they left Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

'Harry, you thought Professor Black was trying to steal the Philosopher’s Stone last year and he wasn't,’ said Hermione. 'He’s a teacher, why would he be trying to kill students? Besides he wasn’t even born 50 years ago!’

'No,’ said Ron, 'but his parents would have been and they’d have probably been at Hogwarts then too. The Blacks are well known for their pureblood love.’

'But why would he start now? Why not when he was at school as a kid? Why not as a teacher before now?’ said Hermione. 'And if he hates Muggleborns so much why did he ask me and others into his Slug Club?’

'I don’t know,' said Harry. 'But if it’s not Black and it’s not Malfoy, then who is it?’

*

Christmas came and went. Hermione had done some research into the Black family to find out that though Professor Black’s parents would have been at school in the 1940s, only his brother and a cousin had been to Azkaban in recent years.

This weighed heavy on Harry’s mind. He still hadn’t told the other two that Dumbledore had told him last year that Black’s brother and Harry’s father had been best friends. And now he was finding out that Black's brother had murdered 12 Muggles in broad daylight. Did his father know that he was friends with a pureblood fanatical? It made Harry think back to when Draco had tried to befriend him at the start of their first year. He was glad more than ever that he’d declined.

But Harry couldn’t let his suspicions just go and had taken to keeping as close an eye on Black as possible. Which was why he found himself racing down to the Quidditch pitch early one Saturday morning towards the end of January.

He’d been looking out of his dormitory window and seen two figures, one short and blonde, the other tall and dark haired making their way across the school grounds. When he reached the pitch his suspicions were confirmed. Malfoy and Black were there; but they weren’t conspiring as Harry thought they might be. Instead Draco was on his broomstick and Black was throwing tennis balls at him to catch.

'Mr Potter, you’d make a terrible spy,’ said Black without turning around. 'However it has to be said you’re a damn fine Seeker. Unfortunately, as you know, Mr Malfoy here is not.’ To prove his point he threw a tennis ball at Malfoy who let it fly past his ear.

'These stupid Muggle balls are the wrong size though,’ Malfoy complained. 'I should be catching smaller balls.’

Black’s eyes narrowed and he turned to Harry, throwing one of the balls at him, which he caught. Then another. Then a third. Three more came in quick succession; Harry caught all of them.

Black turned back to Malfoy.

'How do you expect to catch the Snitch if you can’t catch a tennis ball first?’ He then picked up a couple of stones from the ground he threw two to Draco, who almost fell off his broomstick trying to catch them and two to Harry who caught then both in his left hand.

Black rubber his forehead with his own hand and punched the bridge of his nose. He lifted his wand and shouted, 'Accio Nimbus 2000.’ Not twenty seconds later Harry’s broom was in his hand. Black collected together some tennis balls and stones, placing a charm on them. They lifted into the air and scattered around the stadium, fitting this way and that, reminding Harry of the keys he encountered through the trapdoor last year. Black then kicked open the chest of Quidditch balls before him and released the Golden Snitch.

'We are all going to get on our brooms and collect as many stones and tennis balls as we can.’ Black instructed. 'Balls are worth 10 points, stones are worth 20 points - the Snitch is worth 50 in this exercise.’

He then picked up the Quaffle. 'We also have to throw this to each other throughout the exercise. If you drop it, you lose 30 points.’ The two boys mounted their broom.

'Oh,’ said Black, 'And watch out for the Bludgers.’ With that he released the final balls which launched themselves at Harry and Malfoy who both sped off out of the way. Black jumped onto his own Nimbus 2001 and raced into the morning air.

There was no way Harry, who was objectively on the worse broom, was going to let the two Slytherins win. He wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten himself into this, but he definitely wasn’t going to back out.

The three of them speed around the pitch, collecting balls, which stopped flying away once caught, and placing them into their cloaks. Malfoy struggled when it came to catching the Quaffle, dropping it on 4 occasions, though Harry and Black managed to keep it up in the air. Harry himself had a few close encounters with the bludgers, at one point they were racing towards him from each side, and he got out of the way just in the nick of time, sending them bouncing off one another.

In fairness to Malfoy, he didn’t do too badly, ending up only 100 points behind Harry and Black, with just the Snitch to catch. That was when Harry saw the golden glint as the sun began to rise. Black had seen it too and both began racing towards it. Malfoy must have seen the two of them as he tried to catch them up. Black’s broom was faster in the end and he ended up victorious.

'Good flying today, Mr Potter,’ Black said when they were back on the ground. 'Maybe some day you’ll be as good as I am. Just maybe. Now, I think it’s time you went back to your Gryffindor friends, don’t you. We wouldn’t want anyone finding out that Parselmouth was training with the Slytherins now, would we? Especially with Slytherin’s Monster on the loose.’

Harry stood blankly for a moment. How did Black know about him being a Parselmouth? Surely Malfoy must have told him. He turned and walked back towards the castle, wondering what else Malfoy might have mentioned.


	12. Slytherin's Monster

As Harry returned to the castle and headed towards the Gryffindor Dormitories, he had a thought that someone else might be able to help him figure who was behind the attacks.

Ghosts, he reasoned, would know more about the history of Hogwarts than any living person, surely. But Nearly Headless Nick was petrified, Professor Binns was less than forthcoming, and Harry had never really spoken to any of the other ghosts. Except for Myrtle.

Harry reached her bathroom and tentatively opened the door to the faint sound of sobbing.

‘Myrtle?’ he called.

The sobbing stopped.

'Who’s that?’ glugged Myrtle miserably. 'Come to throw something else at me?’

Harry walked to her cubicle, noting that the floor was quite slippery, as if it has recently been mopped. 'Why would I want to throw something at you?’

'Don’t ask me,’ Myrtle wailed, emerging with a wave of water, which splashed in the already damp floor. 'Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it’s funny to throw a book at me …’

'But it can’t hurt you if someone throws something at you,’ said Harry, reasonably. 'I mean, it’d just go right through you, wouldn’t it?’

He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, 'Let’s all throw books at Myrtle, because she can’t feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha ha ha! What a lovely have, I don’t think!’

'Who threw it at you anyway?’ asked Harry.

’I don’t know … I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head,’ said Myrtle, glaring at him. 'It’s over there, it got washed out.’

Harry looked under the sink, where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry picked it up and saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. In the first page he could just make out the name ’T. M. Riddle’ in smudged ink.

Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn’t the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even 'Auntie Mabel’s birthday’ or 'dentist, half past three’.

Harry turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a newsagent’s from Vauxhall Road, London. He must’ve been Muggle-born, Harry deduced. Then he wondered whether Myrtle might know of the diarist.

Harry weighed the diary in his hand. 'Do you know who T. M. Riddle is?’ he asked.

'Tom Riddle? Ooh, he was so handsome, just like you Harry. Though he was a couple of years older than me and a perfect. He had such a sad childhood, he was an orphan, brought up with muggles.’

'So you were at school with him? In the 40s ... Myrtle,’ he said, as tactfully as possible. 'Can you remember when you died?’

All of a sudden Myrtle lit up with glee.

'Oh, yes! 13th June, 1943! It was dreadful!’ she said with relish. 'I died in this very cubicle, you know?I remember it so well. I was hiding because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked my door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then -’ Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining, 'I died.’

'How?’

'No idea,’ said Myrtle in hushed tones. 'I just remember seeing a pair of great big yellow eyes. My whole body seized up, and then I was floating away …’ she looked dreamily at Harry. 'And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she’d ever laughed at my glasses.’

'Thanks, Myrtle, you've been a lot of help.'

Tom Riddle was brought up by muggles, just like me, thought Harry. If only he could find a way to read the diary, there might be some information about the attacks last time. And Myrtle's death had to be connected

*

'Are you mad?’ said Ron, as Harry shared what he had found with the others. 'It could be dangerous.’

'Dangerous?’ said Harry, laughing. 'Come off it, how can it be dangerous?’

'You’d be surprised,’ said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. 'Some of the books the Ministry’s confiscated - Dad’s told me - there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And -’

'All right, I’ve got the point,’ said Harry.

'Anyway, Ron,’ said Hermione, 'Harry’s looked at it and seems to be normal, so I don’t think this particular book is cursed. It might have hidden powers though.’ She took the diary and looked at it closely.

'Who’s diary did you say it was, again?’ asked Ron whilst Hermione started tapping the book as if to try and reveal its secrets.

'Tom Riddle. Apparently he was a perfect here 50 years ago. Myrtle knew him - and I’m sure she’s who the monster killed last time. Big yellow eyes she mentioned.’

'I know that name, Tom Riddle,’ said Ron thoughtfully. 'I know where I know it from, he got an award for special services to the school 50 years ago - it’s the one I had to keep polishing. Maybe it had something to do with the chamber opening last time. Maybe he found the culprit.’

'If only he’d written in his diary, then we might know,’ said Harry.

'It might be invisible ink,’ Hermione suggested.

She tapped the diary three times and said, 'Aparecium!’

Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand into her car and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.

'It’s a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,’ she said.

She rubbed hard on 'January the first’. Nothing happened.

'Maybe he just got it for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered to fill it in,’ said Ron.

*

The next morning as Harry and Ron went down to the Common Room, they find Hermione was already there, poring over a book.

'I think I’ve found it!’ she said, excitedly. 'Here, read this.’

She passed them her copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and they read the passage she was pointing to.

_The Basilisk is a brilliant green serpent that may reach up to fifty feet in length. The male has a scarlet plunge upon its head. It has exceptionally venomous fangs but its most dangerous means of attack is the gaze of its large yellow eyes. Anyone looking directly into these will suffer instant death._

_If the food source is sufficient (the Basilisk will eat all mammals and birds and most reptiles), the serpent may attain a very great age. Herpo the Foul’s Basilisk is believed to have lived for close on nine hundred years. ___

__'See? It has large yellow eyes which were the last thing Myrtle saw before she died. And we know that Slytherin’s symbol was the serpent, maybe he created a Basilisk, something he could control through his use of Parseltongue to get rid of his enemies. And if they can live for at least nine hundred years then that would make sense too.’_ _

__'But it doesn’t explain why Colin and Justin were only petrified,’ said Ron._ _

__'I think I might have an answer for that,’ said Hermione. 'None of the victims this time around have looked directly at the Basilisk. Mrs Norris saw its reflection in the water outside Myrtle’s bathroom. Colin saw its gaze through his camera. Justin saw it through Nick, who got the full blast, but obviously can’t die twice.’ She passed them each a mirror. 'Here, look around corners with these just in case, that way we should keep safe. And we should tell Professor McGonagall what we've found.'_ _

__'Hermione, I'm not being funny,' said Ron, 'but I think we'd all notice if a dirty great big snake was slithering around.'_ _

__Hermione furrowed her brow in deep thought, but had to admit the Ron had a point._ _

__'Fine,' she said. 'Then I won't say anything until we have more proof.' With that she slammed her book shut, picked up all three mirrors and headed to her dormitory._ _

__*_ _

__The sun had now begun to some weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning they were fast leaving childhood._ _

__'The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again,' Harry heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon 'And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs Norris back in no time.'_ _

__Perhaps the heir of Slytherin had loser his or her nerve, thought Harry. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets, with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whether it was a Basilisk or something else entirely, was settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years ..._ _

__Hermione had gone into overdrive trying to prove that the monster was a Basilisk. She carried her mirror with her everywhere, using it to check around corners. She wasn't talking much to Harry and Ron either after they had dismissed her theory._ _

__Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Harry overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration._ _

__'I don't think there'll be anymore trouble, Minerva,' he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. 'I think the Chamber had been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught them. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on them._ _

__(CS 176-178)_ _

__Harry would have given all the gold in Gringotts to evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he got up, his feet numb from the weight of the dwarf, as Percy Weasley did his best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth._ _

__'Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now,' he said, shooing some of the younger students away. ' _And _you, Malfoy.'___ _

____Harry, glancing over saw Malfoy stoop and snatch up something. Leering, he showed it to Crabbe and Goyle, and Harry realised he had Riddle's diary._ _ _ _

____'Give that back,' said Harry quietly_ _ _ _

____'Wonder what Potter's written in this?' said Malfoy, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover, and thought he had Harry's own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny was starting from the diary to Harry, looking terrified._ _ _ _

____'Hand it over, Malfoy,' said Percy sternly._ _ _ _

____'When I've had a look,' said Malfoy, waving the diary tauntingly at Harry._ _ _ _

____Percy said, 'As a school prefect -', but Harry had lost his temper. He pulled out his wand and shouted, ' _Accio diary! _' and just as Black had called for Harry's broom, the diary came flying from Malfoy's hands and over to Harry.___ _ _ _

______'Harry!' said Percy loudly. 'No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!'_ _ _ _ _ _

______But Harry didn't care, he'd got one over on Malfoy, and that was worth five points from Gryffindor any day._ _ _ _ _ _

______(CS 178-184)_ _ _ _ _ _

______The scene whirled, the darkness became complete, Harry felt himself falling and, with a crash, he landed spread-eagled on his four-poster in the Gryffindor dormitory, Riddle’s diary lying open on his stomach._ _ _ _ _ _

______Before he had had time to regain his breath, the dormitory door opened and Ron came in._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘There you are, he said._ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry sat up. He was sweating and shaking._ _ _ _ _ _

______'What’s up?’ said Ron, looking at him with concern._ _ _ _ _ _

______'It’s not a Basilisk, Ron. I don’t know what it was. But I do know who it was. It was Hagrid. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets 50 years ago.’_ _ _ _ _ _


	13. The Truth About Tom

Harry, Ron and Hermione had always known that Hagrid had an unfortunate looking for large and monstrous creatures. During their first year at Hogwarts he had tried to raise a dragon on his little wooden house, and it would be a long time before they forgot the giant, three-headed dog he'd christened 'Fluffy'. And if, as a bit, Hagrid had heard that a monster was hidden somewhere in the castle, Harry was sure he'd have gone to any lengths for a glimpse of it he'd probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long, and thought it deserved the chance to stretch its many legs; Harry could just imagine the thirteen-year-old Hagrid trying to fit a lead and collar on it. But he was equally certain that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody.

Harry half-wished he hadn't found out how to work Riddle's diary. Again and again Ron and Hermione made him recount what he'd seen, until he was heartily sick of telling them and sick of the long circular conversing that followed.

'Riddle might have got the wrong person,’ said Hermione. 'I don’t know of any hairy beasts with a great number of legs and yellow eyes. A Basilisk just makes more sense.’

'How many monsters d'you think this place can hold?’ Ron asked dully.

'We always knew Hagrid had been expelled,’ said Harry miserably. 'And the attacks must’ve stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn’t have got his award.’

Ron tried a different track.

'Riddle does sound like Percy - who asked him to grass on Hagrid, anyway?’

'But the monster had killed someone, Ron,’ said Hermione.

'And Riddle was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Hogwarts,’ said Harry. 'I don’t blame him for wanting to stay here …’

Ron bit his lip, then said tentatively, 'You met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn’t you, Harry?’

'He was buying a Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent,’ said Harry quickly.

The the of them feel silent. After a long pause, Hermione voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice: 'Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?’

'That’d be a cheerful visit,’ said Ron. 'Hello, Hagrid, tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?’

In the end they decided that they wouldn’t say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became more hopeful that they would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. It was more nearly four months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. In March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in Greenhouse Three which made Professor Sprout very happy.

'The moment they start trying to move into each other’s pots, we’ll know they’re fully mature,’ she told Harry. 'Then we’ll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing.’

*

After potions one day Black asked Harry, Hermione, Neville and Malfoy to stay behind.

'Mr Potter, Miss Granger, we have another gathering of the Slug Club on Friday night. Mr Longbottom, due to your excellent progression in Potion Making, and Professor Sprout’s high appraisal of your Herbological knowledge I think it’s only right that I extend an invitation to you.'

He then turned to Malfoy. 'Mr Malfoy, I received a letter from your father asking why you yourself are not a member of our little Club, especially when muggleborns like Miss Granger are involved. I will be writing back to tell him that unfortunately you currently do not possess any outstanding talent that I can discern. The club under my guidance does not include nepotism as a rule for entry, nor can one buy their way in, but instead there must be a show of ability in some field.  
'Perhaps you would do well to find friends who would lift you out of this position, rather than drag you further down to averageness. When is comes to Messrs Crabbe and Goyle the fires may be lit, but the cauldrons aren't exactly bubbling now, are they?'

Black dismissed them, and they joined Ron who had been waiting outside the dungeon. 

'What was that all about?’ he asked suspiciously.

'Oh, nothing, just Black telling us when the next club meeting is,’ said Harry. 'Hermione and Neville are going because of their intelligence and natural skill, and I’m going because I’m an amazing Seeker. Malfoy was being told he wasn't coming and to make more intelligent friends.’

Malfoy turned a deep shade of red. 'I'm not stupid you know. I do know it was you at Christmas. I don’t know how you turned yourself into my friends, but I know it was you. I could see Weasley’s red hair as you ran out of the Common Room. And you didn't think I'd notice Pansy not turning up again until after the holidays?’

Neville turned to look at Harry, Ron and Hermione. 'Did you make a Polyjuice Potion?’ he asked. 'That’s really hard and dangerous!’

'N-no!’ Hermione said unconvincingly, blushing deeply.

'Look, I’m not going to tell anyone,’ said Malfoy, 'I would have done so by now if I was. At the end of the day, Potter, we both know that’s it’s neither of us, despite us being the most likely candidates. Both from Pure-blood families; I’m in Slytherin like the rest of my family; you speak Parseltongue like Salazar Slytherin himself did. In fact you even have his complexion. You know he came from the Mesopotamian Marshes in Batihah as it was then known?’

'What’s your point, Malfoy?’ Harry asked impatiently.

'Maybe we should work together to find the culprit. If we pool our resources then we might be able to stop whoever it is.’

Ron looked at Malfoy with suspicion. 'What’s in it for you? When you thought we were Slytherins you told us that you hoped Hermione was next. Why would you want to catch the attacker? I thought you wanted to help whoever it was.’

'Of course I’d say that to Slytherins! Especially when most of our fathers used to follow You-Know-Who! But maybe Professor Black has a point. Perhaps I should try to rely less on my father. I thought you'd be glad of the extra help, a man on the inside as it were.’ 

Harry looked at the others. Neville seemed to still be in shock at the earlier revelations, Ron was looking suspiciously at Malfoy and Hermione seemed deep in thought. She shrugged as if to say 'it’s up to you’.

'Fine, we’ll help,’ he conceded then he, Ron and Hermione shared with the others their research and told them about the diary. By the time they had finished Neville was white as a ghost.

'I know who Tom Riddle is,’ he said. 'Gran was at school with him. She said he was always a bully, even back then.’ Everyone turned and looked at him expectantly. 'Tom Riddle is He Who Must Not Be Named.’


	14. Pipes

Though they had all agreed that Voldemort must have been behind the original attacks and then framed Hagrid for them, they had no idea who was behind this new wave.

Malfoy has agreed to keep an eye on his fellow Slytherins, though with no recent attacks this was proving fruitless. Ron in particular wasn’t a fan of Malfoy helping them out and kept trying to work out his ulterior motive. Hermione was giving as many people as she could tiny hand held mirrors to look around corners with, though only a few took her up on the offer. Neville had sent a letter to his grandmother to try and find any information on his family she may know. As far as they were aware he didn’t have any children and there were no known wizarding families called Riddle, which was probably a name given to him by the Muggle orphanage that he was raised in.

Harry’s mind was however pre-occupied. Gryffindor’s next Quidditch match would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Harry barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday’s match, he went up to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick, feeling Gryffindor’s chances for the Quidditch Cup had never been better.

But his cheerful mood didn’t last long. At the top of the stairs to the dormitory, he met Neville, who was looking frantic.

'Harry - I don't know who did it. I just found -'

Watching Harry fearfully, Neville pushed open the door.

The contents of Harry’s trunk had been thrown everywhere.

(CS 187-188)

As he left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione to go and collect his Quidditch things, another, very serious worry was added to Harry’s growing list. He had just set foot on the marble staircase when he heard it again: _'Kill this time … let me rip … tear ...’ ___

__He shouted aloud and Ron and Hermione jumped away from him in alarm._ _

__‘The voice!’ said Harry, looking over his shoulder. 'I just heard it again - didn’t you?’_ _

__Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead._ _

__'Pipes! It’s using pipes! Quick follow the voice as best as you can, Harry! But be careful,' she said thrusting a mirror in to his hand._ _

__Harry had no idea what Hermione was talking about, but he also knew she was the smartest person he knew and knew better than to argue. So he ran towards where he last heard the voice until._ _

___'Quickly … rip … tear … I must feed … let me kill …’ ____ _

____He followed the voice up the stairs, down corridors. Every time they turned a corner Hermione shouted a warning to check with his mirror first. Then Harry heard no more._ _ _ _

____'It’s gone,’ said Harry. 'The voice is gone.’_ _ _ _

____'It’s got to be a Basilisk,’ Hermione said. 'That’s why only you can hear it, Harry. And why I could hear a faint hissing sound. I’m pretty sure it’s using the pipes to get around the school.’_ _ _ _

____'Harry … Hermione …’ said Ron. They looked at him to find him pale and wide-eyed in horror. He was pointing down the corridor. At the corner they could see a body on the ground. They walked over, scared of what they might find._ _ _ _

____'That’s Penelope Clearwater,’ Hermione said. 'She’s a Ravenclaw perfect. I was talking to her last week at the Slug Club about the danger.’_ _ _ _

____'Is she dead?’ asked Harry. Hermione crouched down beside her._ _ _ _

____'No,’ she said. The boys breathed a sigh of relief. 'It would seem that unlike some, she took my advice regarding looking around corners with a mirror.’_ _ _ _

____It was at that moment Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout turned the corner. They stopped and took in the scene before them. McGonagall placed her hand over her mouth._ _ _ _

____'Oh, goodness me,’ she said. 'Pomona, do you mind taking Miss Clearwater to the Hospital wing. I think I had better take these three to my office. And we had better cancel the Quidditch, I think as well.’_ _ _ _

____'Right you are, Minerva,’ said Professor Sprout as she elevated Penelope the same way McGonagall had with Justin and Nick all those months earlier._ _ _ _

____McGonagall lead Harry, Ron and Hermione towards her office, conjured three chairs and told them to sit. She then offered them a biscuit._ _ _ _

____'I don’t know whether you three go looking for trouble or if it just finds you, but so often you are there when it happens. First of all, I have to ask, why were you near the library? Surely, Harry, you should have been preparing for the match?’_ _ _ _

____'It was my fault, Professor,’ said Hermione before either of the others could answer. 'I wanted to do a little more research on the furniture transfigurations you were showing us last week. I convinced Harry and Ron to come with me to get it quickly before the game began.’ The boys looked at her, mouths ajar at the barefaced lie she’d just told. But the answer seemed to satisfy McGonagall._ _ _ _

____'Did you see anything suspicious?’ she asked. The three of them shook their heads._ _ _ _

____'No,’ said Hermione on everyone’s behalf. 'Only Penelope petrified on the floor.’_ _ _ _

____'Very well,’ said McGonagall having mulled over their alibi. 'I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower, I need to address the students in any case, I would imagine everyone will be aware of what has happened by now.'_ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____'All students will return to their house common room by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.'_ _ _ _

____The Gryffindors packed inside the common room that afternoon listened to Professor McGonagall in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she was reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, 'I need hardly as that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward.'_ _ _ _

____She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began taking immediately._ _ _ _

____‘So that’s one Ravenclaw, one Hufflepuff and one Gryffindor, oh, and a Gryffindor ghost,’ said the Weasley twin’s friend Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. 'Haven’t any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn’t it obvious all this stuff’s coming from Slytherins? The heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin - why don’t they just chuck all the Slytherins out?’ he roared, to nods and scattered applause._ _ _ _

____Percy Weasley was sat in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn’t seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned._ _ _ _

____'Percy’s in shock,’ George told Harry quietly. 'That Ravenclaw girl - Penelope Clearwater - she’s a Prefect. I don’t think he thought the monster would dare attack a Prefect.’_ _ _ _

____But Harry was only half-listening. Another student petrified. If Hermione hadn’t have given her a mirror the night before then it would have been worse. It was only a matter of time before another Myrtle happened._ _ _ _

____'What’re we going to do?’ said Ron quietly in Harry’s ear. ’D'you think they suspect Hagrid?’_ _ _ _

____'We’ve got to talk to him,’ said Harry, making up his mind. 'If only to clear his name. Besides, he may know something about the Chamber or Voldemort’s family that we don’t.’_ _ _ _

____'But McGonagall said that we can only leave the tower for classes,’ said Hermione. 'But I agree we need more proof before we go to her with what we've found.'_ _ _ _

____'I think,’ said Harry, more quietly still, 'it’s time to get my dad’s old cloak out again.'_ _ _ _


	15. Aragog

Harry had inherited just one thing from his father: a long and silvery Invisibility Cloak. It was their only chance of sneaking out of the school to visit Hagrid without anyone knowing about it. Harry and Ron went to bed at the usual time, waited until Neville, Dean and Seamus had stopped discussing the Chamber of Secrets and finally fallen asleep, then got up, dressed again and went to join Hermione in the Common Room.

'It’s about time,’ she said, 'I’ve been waiting here for ages, I thought you’d fallen asleep!’

The three of them huddled under the Cloak and shuffled through the portrait hole to Hagrid’s.

The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridor want enjoyable. Harry, who had wandered the castle at night several times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, Prefects and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak didn't stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe and swore. The trio froze in fear, but luckily they were alone at that moment. It was with relief that they reached the oak doors and eased then open.

It was a clear starry night. They hurried towards the lighted windows if Hagrid's house, and pulled off the Cloak only when they were right outside his front door.

Seconds after they knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face to face, with him aiming a crossbow at them, Fang the boarhound banking loudly behind him.

'Oh,' he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them.

'What's that for?' said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.

'Nothin' ... nothin',' Hagrid muttered. 'I've bin expectin' ... doesn' matter ... Sit down .. I'll make tea ...'

He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed a teapot with a nervous jerk of his hand.

'Are you OK, Hagrid?' said Harry.

'Yeh ... I'm fine ... I'm fine ...' Hagrid said, glancing nervously at the windows.

The three friends looked at each other.

'Hagrid,' Hermione said carefully as he poured then all large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add teabags. 'We just wanted to ask you some - '

She was cut off by a loud knock on the door, at which Hagrid dropped a fruitcake he'd been slicing. Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged panic-stricken looks, then three the Invisibility Cloak over themselves and retreated into a corner.

(CS 193-196)

Summer was creeping over the ground around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hagrid visible from the castle windows, striding down the grounds with Fang at his heels, the scene didn't look right to Harry; no better, in fact, than the inside of the castle, where things were so horribly wrong 

With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face that didn't look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled.

Harry constantly repeated Dumbledore's final words to himself. _'I will only truly have left this school when mind here are loyal to me ... Hell will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.' _But what good were these words? Who exactly were they supposed to ask for help, when everyone was just as confused and scared as they were?__

__Hagrid's hung about the spiders was far easier to understand - the trouble was, there didn't seem to be a single spider left in the castle to follow. Harry and Hermione's looked everywhere they went, helped (rather reluctantly) by Ron. They were hampered, of course, by the fact that they weren't allowed to wander off on their own, but had to move around the castle in a pack with the other Gryffindors. Most of their fellow students seemed glad that they were being shepherded from class to class by teachers, but Harry found it very irksome._ _

__One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Draco Malfoy was strutting around the school as though he has just been appointed Head Boy. Harry didn’t realise what he was so pleased about until the Potions lesson about a fortnight after Dumbledore and Hagrid had left, when, sitting right behind Malfoy, Harry overheard him gloating to Crabbe and Goyle_ _

__'I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore,’ he said, not troubling to keep his voice down. 'I told you he thinks Dumbledore’s the worst Headmaster the school’s ever had. Maybe we’ll get a decent Headmaster now. Someone who won’t want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won’t last long, she’s only filling in …’_ _

__Black paused at Harry’s cauldron and took a look._ _

__'Sir,’ said Malfoy loudly. 'Sir, why don’t you apply for the Headmaster’s job?’_ _

__'Now why would I want to do that?’ Black asked without emotion. 'I just love teaching you all so much. What joy could I get out of being Headmaster?’_ _

__Malfoy snickered._ _

__'Besides, I can assure you that Dumbledore will be back sooner rather than later. He has, after all, only been suspended.’_ _

__'Yeah, right,’ said Malfoy, smirking. 'I expect you’d have Father’s vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job. I’ll tell Father you’re the best teacher here, sir …’_ _

__'That’s enough now, Mr Malfoy, your potion is bubbling over, I think that needs your attention right now,’ said Black as he walked off to the other side of the dungeon._ _

__'I’m quite surprised the Mudbloods haven’t all packed their bags by now -’_ _

__'That is enough, Mr Malfoy,’ Black said. He hadn’t raised his voice but the dungeon had fallen silent and Malfoy looked as though he had just been struck. '10 points from Slytherin and I hope never to hear that language in my classroom again.’_ _

__At that moment the bell rang. Black cleared the contents of each of their cauldrons with a swish of his wand then said, 'Pack your things quickly please, then I will lead you to Herbology.’_ _

__In Herbology Professor Sprout set them to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs._ _

__Harry, Ron and Hermione were working on their Shrivelfig with Neville. Next to them were a group of Hufflepuffs._ _

__'That Draco character,’ Ernie Macmillan said out loud, directed to the four Gryffindors as much as his fellow Hufflepuffs, 'he seems very pleased about all this, doesn’t he? D'you know I think he might be Slytherin’s heir. Do you think it might be him too, Harry?’_ _

__'No,’ said Harry so firmly that the Hufflepuffs started at him._ _

__A second later Harry spotted something that made him hit Ron over the hand with his pruning shears._ _

__'Ouch! What’re you -’_ _

__Harry was pointing at the ground a few feet away. Several large spiders were scurrying across the earth._ _

__'Looks like they’re heading for the Forbidden Forest,’ said Hermione. 'It’s a shame we can’t go now.’_ _

__'Oh yeah,’ said Ron, paling by the second 'a real shame.’_ _

__At the end of the lesson Professor Black escorted the class to their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville lagged behind the others so they could talk out of earshot._ _

__'We’ll have to use the Invisibility Cloak again,’ said Harry. 'We can take Fang with us. He’s used to going into the Forest with Hagrid, he might be some help.’_ _

__'You don’t have to do this Ron,’ said Hermione. 'I know you don’t like spiders, let me and Harry do this one. Besides we both know the Forest.’_ _

__*_ _

__The Gryffindor common room was always very crowded these days, because from six o'clock onwards, the Gryffindors had nowhere else to go. They also had plenty to talk about, with the result that the common room often didn’t empty until past midnight._ _

__Harry went to get the Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk right after dinner, and spent the evening sitting on it, waiting for the room to clear. Fred and George challenged Harry and Ron to few games of Exploding Snap with Hermione, Neville and a subdued Ginny watching on. Harry and Ron kept losing on purpose to try and finish the games quickly, but even so, it was well past midnight when Fred, George and Ginny finally went to bed._ _

__Harry and Hermione waited for the distant sounds of two dormitory does closing before seizing the cloak and throwing it over themselves as Ron and Neville wished them luck._ _

__It was another difficult journey through the castle, dodging all the teachers, though much easier with just two of them this time. At last they reached the Entrance Hall, slid back the lock on the oak front doors, squeezed between them, trying to stop any creaking, and stepped out into the moonlit grounds. Silently they strode across the black grass finally teaching Hagrid’s house, sad and sorry-looking with its blank windows._ _

__When Harry pushed the door open, Fang went mad with joy at the sight of them. Worried he might wake everyone at the castle with his deep booming barks, they hastily feed him treacle fudge from a tin in the mantelpiece, which glued his teeth together._ _

__Harry let the Invisibility Cloak on Hagrid’s table. There would be no need for it in the pitch-dark Forest._ _

__'C'mon, Fang, we’re going for a walk,’ said Harry, patting his leg, and Fang bounded happily out of the house behind them, dashed to the edge of the Forest and lifted his leg against a large sycamore tree._ _

__Harry and Hermione took out their wands and whispered ’Lumos!’ and a tiny light appeared at the tips, just enough to let then watch the path for signs of spiders._ _

__They noticed two spiders hurrying away from the wandlight into the shade of the trees._ _

__'OK,’ said Hermione, 'let’s go.’_ _

__So, with Fang scampering around them, sniffing tree roots and leaves, they entered the Forest. By the floor of their wands, they followed the steady trickle of spiders moving along the path. They walked for about fifteen minutes, not speaking, listening hard for noises other than breaking twigs and rustling leaves. Then z when the trees had become thicker than ever, do that the stars overhead were no longer visible, and their wands alone since in a sea of dark, they saw their spider guides leaving the path._ _

__Harry paused, trying to see where the spiders were going, but everything outside their little sphere of light was pitch black. They had never been this deep into the Forest before. Harry could vividly remember Hagrid advising them not to leave the Forest path last time they'd been here. But Hagrid was miles away now, probably sitting in a cell in Azkaban, and he also said to follow the spiders._ _

__Something we touched Harry's hand and he jumped backwards into Hermione, but it was only Fang's nose._ _

__'What d'you reckon?' Harry said to Hermione._ _

__'Well Hagrid did always say stick to the path,' Hermione said. 'But we've come this far, it wouldn't be right to turn around now. Besides he told us to follow the spiders, he wouldn't let us walk into danger, would he?'_ _

__So they followed the darting shadows of the spiders into the trees they couldn't move very quickly now; there were tree root stumps in their way, barely visible in the near blackness. Harry could feel Fang's hot breath on his hand. More than once they had to stop and crouch down to find the spiders in the wandlight._ _

__They walked for what seemed to be another twenty minutes, their robes snagging on low-slung branches and brambles. After a while, they noticed that the ground seemed to be doing downwards, though the trees were as thick as ever._ _

__Then Fang suddenly let loose a great, echoing bark, making both Harry and Hermione jump out of their skins._ _

__They looked wildly around in the darkness, and Hermione gripped hold of Harry tight._ _

__'There’s something moving over there,’ she whispered. They extinguished their wands and waited silently. Some distance to their right they heard something big snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees._ _

__The darkness seemed to be pressing on their eyeballs as they stood, terrified, waiting._ _

__'Do you think it’s gone?’ Hermione asked._ _

__'I don’t know…’ said Harry._ _

__Then, to their right, came a sudden blaze if light, so bright in the darkness that both of them flung up their hands to shield their eyes. Fang yelped and tried to run, but got lodged in a tangle of thorns and yelped even louder._ _

__Harry and Hermione screamed, fearing the worst. Then all of a sudden it honked._ _

__'Hermione!’ said Harry. 'It’s Mr Weasley’s car!’_ _

__They stumbled and tripped towards the light, and a moment later emerged into a clearing._ _

__Mr Weasley’s car was indeed standing there, empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, its headlamps ablaze. As Harry walked towards it, the car moved slowly towards him, exactly like a large, turquoise dog happy to see a friend._ _

__'It seems to have gone feral,’ said Hermione._ _

__The wings of the car were scratched and smeared with mud. Apparently it had taken to trundling around the Forest on its own._ _

__Harry’s breathing began to slow and he put his wand away. He squinted around on the floodlit ground for any signs of more spiders, but they had all scuttled away from the glare of the headlights._ _

__'We’ve lost the trail,’ he said. 'C'mon, let’s go and find them.’_ _

__'I don’t think we need to,’ said Hermione, her eyes fixed on a point some ten feet above the Forest floor, right behind Harry. 'They’ve found us.’_ _

__Harry didn’t even have time to turn around. The was a loud clicking noise and suddenly he felt something long and hairy seize him around the middle and lift him off the ground, so that he was hanging, face down. Struggling, terrified, be heard more clicking and saw Hermione’s legs leave the ground too, heard Fang whimpering and howling - next moment, he was being swept away into the dark trees._ _

__Head hanging, Harry saw what had hold of him was marching in six immensely long, hairy legs, the front two clutching him tightly below a pair of chining black pincers. Behind him he could hear another of the creatures, no doubt carrying Hermione. They were moving into the very heart of the Forest. Harry could hear Fang fighting to free himself from a third monster, whining loudly, but Harry couldn't have yelled even if he had wanted to; he seemed to have left his voice back with the car in the clearing_ _

__He never knew how long he was in the creature's clutches; he only knew that the darkness suddenly lifted enough for him to see that the leaf-strewn ground was now swarming with spiders. Craning his neck sideways, he realised that they had reached the rim of a vast hollow, a hollow which had been cleared of trees, so that the stars shone brightly onto the worst scene he had ever clapped eyes upon._ _

__Spiders. Not to spiders like those surging over the leaves below. Spiders the size of carthorses, eight-eyed, eight-legged, black, hairy, gigantic. The massive specimen that was carrying Harry made its way down the steep slope, towards a misty domed web in the very centre of the hollow, while it's fellows close in all around it, clicking their pincers excitedly at the sight of its load._ _

__Harry fell to the ground on all fours as the spider released him. Hermione and Fang thudded down next to him. Fang wasn’t howling any more, but cowering silently on the spot. Hermione looked exactly like Harry felt. Her eyes were wide in terror and all the colour had drained from her face._ _

__Harry suddenly realised the the spider which had dropped him was saying something. It had been hard to tell, because he clicked his pincers with every word he spoke._ _

__'Aragog!’ it called. 'Aragog!’_ _

__And from the middle of the misty domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly. There was grey in the black of his body and legs, each of the eyes on his ugly, pincered head was milky white. He was blind._ _

__'What is it?’ he said, clicking his pincers rapidly._ _

__'Men,’ clicked the spider who had caught Harry._ _

__'Is it Hagrid?’ said Aragog, moving closer, his weight milky eyes wandering vaguely._ _

__'Strangers,’ click the spider who had brought Hermione._ _

__'Kill them,’ clicked Aragog fretfully. 'I was sleeping …’_ _

__'We’re friends of Hagrid’s,’ Harry shouted. His heart seemed to have left his cheese to pound in his throat._ _

__Click, click, click went the pincers of the spiders all around the hollow._ _

__Aragog paused._ _

__'Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before,“ he said slowly._ _

__'Hagrid’s in trouble,’ said Harry, breathing very fast. 'That’s why we’ve come.’_ _

__'In trouble?’ said the aged spider, and Harry thought he heard concern beneath the clicking pincers. 'But why has he sent you?’_ _

__Hermione hadn’t said a word yet, but had her focus entirely on the beast in front of them._ _

__'You’re an Acromantular,’ she said._ _

__'The female is bright,’ Aragog conceded. 'But that still doesn’t explain why Hagrid sent you.’_ _

__'50 years ago Hagrid kept you in the castle, am I right?’ said Hermione. She took Aragog’s silence as a yes. 'And you were blamed for the attacks on the students. But I don’t think it was you. In fact I know for a fact that the true monster is something that all spiders flee from, even those as powerful as you.’_ _

__'Do not speak it’s name,’ Aragog warned. 'You are correct, of course. Both Hagrid and I were wrongly accused. But Hagrid is a good man. He cared for me as a boy and protected me ever since. He still visits me in my Forest home. He even found me a wife, Mosag. You see how my family has grown, all through Hagrid’s goodness …’_ _

__Harry summoned what remained of his courage._ _

__'So you never - never attacked anyone?’_ _

__'Never,’ croaked the old spider. 'It would have been my instinct, but from respect of Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like the dark and the quiet.’_ _

__Harry felt the spiders closing in around them._ _

__'We’ll just go, then,’ Harry said, hearing leaves rustling behind him._ _

__'Go?’ said Aragog slowly. 'I think not …’_ _

__'But - but -’_ _

__'My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wonders so willingly into our midst. Goodbye, friends of Hagrid.'_ _

__Harry spun around. Feet away, towering above him, was a solid wall of spiders, clicking, their many eyes gleaming in their ugly black heads ..._ _

__Even as he reached for his wand, Harry knew it was no good, there were too many of them, but as he tried to stand, ready to die fighting, a loud, long note sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow._ _

__Mr Wesley's car was thundering down the slope, headlamps glaring, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside; several were thrown on their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The car screeched to s happy in front of Harry and Hermione and the doors flew open._ _

__'Get Fang!' Harry yelled, diving into the front seat; Hermione seized the boarhound round the middle and threw him, helping, into the back of the car. The doors slammed shut. Hermione didn't touch the accelerator but the car didn't need her; the engine roared and they were off, hitting more spiders. They sped up the slope, out of the hollow, and they were soon crashing through the Forest, branches whipping the windows as the car wound its way cleverly through the widest gaps, following a party it obviously knew_ _

__Harry looked sideways at Hermione._ _

__'Are you OK?' he asked._ _

__'Doing better now. I'll be even better when we get out of the Forest ...'_ _

__They smashed their way through the undergrowth, Fang howling loudly in the back seat, and Harry saw the wing mirror snap off as the squeezed past a large oak. After ten noisy, rocky minutes the trees thinned, and Harry could again see patches of sky._ _

__The car stopped so suddenly that they were nearly thrown into the windscreen. They had reached the edge of the Forest. Fang flung himself at the window in his anxiety to get out and when Harry opened the door, he shit off through the trees to Hagrid's house, tail between his legs._ _

__Harry gave the car a grateful pat as it reversed back into the Forest and disappeared from view. He then went back into Hagrid’s cabin to get the Invisibility Cloak. Fang was trembling under a blanket in his basket._ _

__‘Thank goodness Ron didn’t come,’ said Hermione as he walked back outside. 'He’d have hated that. Not that I loved it, mind you.’_ _

__'At least we can confirm Hagrid was innocent, and that it was a Basilisk that killed Myrtle,’ said Harry._ _

__'That’s true, if only we knew who was releasing the Basilisk this time around and who stole the diary. If we don’t have the proof, McGonagall will never believe us, let alone Cornelius Fudge.'_ _

__They covered themselves under the Invisibility Cloak and returned to an anxious Ron and Neville to tell them their findings._ _


	16. Ginny

They needed to comfirm to Malfoy that Hagrid was not the culprit, but with Potions class two days away this was not an easy task. They couldn't exactly walk up to him at breakfast, and there was no escaping the teachers who escorted them between classes and back to their dormitories. 

But something happened in their first lesson that morning, Transfiguration, which drove the Chamber of Secrets out of their minds for the first time in weeks. Teen minutes into the class, Professor McGonagall told them that their exams world start on the first of June, one week from today.

'Exams?' howled Seamus Finnigan. 'We're still getting _exams _?'__

__There was a loud bang behind Harry and Neville's wand slipped, vanishing one of the legs of his desk. Professor McGonagall restored it with a wave of her own wand, and turned, frowning, to Seamus._ _

__'The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education,' she said sternly. 'The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all revising hard.'_ _

__Revising hard! It had never occurred to Harry that there would be exams with the castle in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous mutterings around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly._ _

__'Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible,' she said. 'And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year.'_ _

__Harry looked down at a pair of white rabbits he was supposed to be turning into slippers. What had he learned so far this year? He couldn't seem to think of anything that would be useful in an exam._ _

__Hermione on the other hand, was beaming, fluffly slippers with pink lovehearts were on the desk in front of her. There was no doubt she was the only student in the classroom who had continued to revise._ _

__Ron however, looked as though he'd just been told he had to fight the Whomping Willow._ _

__'Can you imagine me taking exams with this?' he ask Harry, holding up his wand, which had just started whistling loudly._ _

__*_ _

__Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast._ _

__'I have some good news,’ she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted._ _

__'Dumbledore’s coming back!’ several people yelled joyfully._ _

__'You’ve caught the heir of Slytherin!’ squeaked a girl on the Ravenclaw table._ _

__'Quidditch matches are back on!’ roared Wood excitedly._ _

__When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, 'Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit.’_ _

__There was an explosion of cheering. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and wasn’t at all surprised to see that Draco Malfoy, who had been avoiding them all week, hadn’t joined in. Hermione looked dreadfully concerned._ _

__'What’s the matter Hermione?’ Ron asked._ _

__'If the culprit is still at large, and in this room, then tonight they may try to stop the victims from awakening. Or try one last time to kill someone.’_ _

__Just then Ginny Weasley came over and sat down next to Ron. She looked tense and nervous, and Harry noticed her hands were twisting in her lap._ _

__'What’s up?’ said Ron, helping himself to more porridge._ _

__Ginny didn’t say anything but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face that reminded Harry of someone, though he couldn’t think who._ _

__'Spit it out,’ said Ron, watching her._ _

__'Ronald!’ Hermione chastised._ _

__Harry suddenly realised who Ginny looked like. She was rocking backwards and forwards slightly in her chair, exactly like Dobby did when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information._ _

__'I’ve got to tell you something,’ Ginny mumbled, carefully not looking at Harry._ _

__But before she could say any more an eagle owl flew to there table and stick out it’s leg for Harry. He took the note attached and the bird flew off again._ _

__'It’s from Malfoy,’ he whispered to Ron and Hermione. 'He wants to meet second period.’_ _

__'But we have History of Magic!’ said Hermione._ _

__Ron looked at her in exasperation. 'Honestly, Hermione, you want to go and listen to Binns droning on, when Malfoy might have some information on The Chamber of Secrets?“_ _

__Hermione agreed that if they could find a way to get out of class it wouldn’t be a bad idea._ _

__'Sorry, Ginny,’ said Harry. 'What was it you wanted again?’_ _

__Ginny's eyes were wide and she rocked closer to Harry, Ron and Hermione. She drew a deep breath, but before she could say anything Percy Weasley arrived, looking tired and wan._ _

__'If you’ve finished eating, I’ll take that seat, Ginny. I’m starving. I’ve only just come off patrol duty.’_ _

__Ginny jumped up as though her chair had just been electrified, gave Percy a fleeting, frightened look, and scarpered away. Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the centre of the table_ _

__'Percy!' said Ron angrily. 'She was just about to tell us something!'_ _

__Halfway through a gulp of tea, Percy choked._ _

__'What sort of thing?' he said, coughing._ _

__'We don't know because before she could tell us you scared her off.'_ _

__'Oh - well - that's nothing to worry about, nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets or anything like that,' said Percy at once.'_ _

__'How do you know?' said Ron, eyebrows raised._ _

__'Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was - well, never mind - the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, I'm, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather -'_ _

__Harry had never seen Percy look so uncomfortable._ _

__'What were you doing, Percy?' said Ron, grinning. 'Go on, tell us, we won't laugh.'_ _

__Percy did not smile back._ _

__'Pass me those rolls, Harry, I'm starving.'_ _

__*_ _

__Luckily it was Lockhart who was escorting the Gryffindors to their History of Magic lesson. He had so often assured them that all danger was passed, only to be proved wrong straight away, and was now whole-heartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn’t as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor._ _

__'Mark my words,’ he said, ushering then around a corner, 'the first words out of those poor Petrified people’s mouths will be "It was Hagrid.” Frankly, I’m astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary.’_ _

__'I agree, sir,’ said Harry, making Ron drop his books in surprise._ _

__'Thank you, Harry,’ said Lockhart graciously, while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. 'I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night …’_ _

__'That’s right,’ said Ron, catching on. 'Why don’t you leave us here, sir, we’ve only got one corridor to go.’_ _

__'You know, Weasley, I think I will,’ said Lockhart. 'I really should go and prepare my next class.’_ _

__And he hurried off._ _

__'Prepare his class,’ Ron sneered after him. Gone to curl his hair, more like.’_ _

__'Ron!’ Hermione chastised._ _

__They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of then, then Harry and Ron darted down a side passage with Hermione and a semi-reluctant Neville behind them. Draco had said to meet them in Myrtle’s bathroom, apparently he had been doing some investigating of his own._ _

__'Why on earth are four Gryffindors scurrying around the castle at a time like this?!’_ _

__It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest if white lines. Beside her stood Draco Malfoy, though he didn’t seem to be gloating, quite the opposite._ _

__'Five students wandering around without a teacher, this will not do. Follow me, all of you.’_ _

__She led them to her office and sat them down. She said nothing, just glared and waited. It could have only been five minutes later, but it felt like five years, there was a knock on the door._ _

__'Enter,' McGonagall said._ _

__In walked Black. McGonagall thanked him and he smiled. This was not a smile of comfort, rather a smile of venom._ _

__'Who would like to explain why they were out of class and roaming the corridors first?’ McGonagall asked. 'Mr Longbottom, perhaps?’ Neville shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked sheepishly down into his lap._ _

__'We were investigating the Chamber of Secrets, Professor,’ said Hermione. 'I know we shouldn’t have done so during class, but I am convinced that whoever has been attacking people will try again tonight and we were trying to stop them.’_ _

__'And what,’ said Black, 'do you know that you think teachers don’t?’_ _

__'We know Hagrid was framed last time. We know Moaning Myrtle was the victim 50 years ago. And we know that Slytherin’s Monster is a Basilisk,’ said Harry._ _

__'And what proof, what physical evidence, do you have for these claims,’ asked Black._ _

__'None,’ Hermione admitted._ _

__'But there was a diary!’ Ron added. 'It belonged to You-Know-Who when he was at school and shows him framing Hagrid!’_ _

__'And where is this diary?’ asked Black._ _

__The students all looked at the ground. 'It was stolen from my belongings,’ Harry said._ _

__'Well, I don’t know how you came across the diary in the first place, or if it is even real, but if so why did you not share it with a teacher or at least report it missing?’ McGonagall said._ _

__'I know where the entrance is, and I think Harry can open it.’_ _

__Everyone turned to Malfoy, stunned by what he had just said. 'I was thinking about Hermione’s theory that the Basilisk was moving around the castle in the plumbing and the fact that Moaning Myrtle died in a bathroom, so I went to investigate. Etched into one of the sink taps is a tiny snake. Small enough that you’d miss it if you went to wash your hands, but it’s noticeable enough if your searching for a marker.’_ _

__The office fell silent._ _

__McGonagall sighed deeply. 'I have had quite enough of this nonsense. I think the five of you have overactive imaginations I’m afraid. I will be taking 10 points from each of you for missing class. Professor Black and I will discuss what your punishment shall be, but in the meantime he shall escort you back to your classes.’_ _

__At that very moment a Hufflepuff prefect walked in, carrying a student’s bag._ _

__'Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but there’s been an incident,’ he said. 'A student’s been taken into the Chamber. This bag was found beneath the heir’s message, along with a new one: Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber for ever.’_ _

__Ron’s eyes were wide with shock._ _

__'That’s Ginny’s bag,’ he said._ _

__'Thank you, Gabriel,’ said McGonagall, 'please take these students back to their dormitories, and then head back to your own. Ronald, I promise you I will do everything in my power to help your sister, but none of you are to do any more investigating, it is far too dangerous.’_ _


	17. Into the Chamber

It was probably the worst day of Harry’s entire life. Percy had sent an owl to Mr and Mrs Weasley, then shut himself in his room. The remaining Weasleys sat with Harry and Hermione in a corner of the common room, unable to say anything to each other.

No afternoon had ever lasted as long as that one, nor had the Gryffindor Tower ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. Near sunset Fred and George went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.

‘She knew something,’ said Ron, speaking for the first time since he’d identified his sister’s belongings. 'That’s why she was taken. It wasn’t some stupid thing about Percy at all. She’d found something out about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was -’ Ron rubbed his eyes frantically. 'I mean, she was a pure-blood. There can’t be any other reason.’

Harry could see the sun sinking, blood red, below the skyline. This was the worst he had ever felt. If only there was something he could do. Anything.

’D'you think there’s a chance at all’ said Ron, 'she’s not - you know -’

Neither Harry nor Hermione could think of what to say.

’D'you know what?’ said Ron, 'I think we should go and see Lockhart. He’s the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and if he’s done all he says he has then he should be able to stop the Basilisk!’

As Harry couldn’t think of anything else to do, and Hermione was always happy to see more of Lockhart, they agreed. The Gryffindors around them were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys, that nobody tried to stop them as they got up, crossed the room, and left through the portrait hole.

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart’s office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps and hurried footsteps.

Harry knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart’s eyes peering through it.

'Oh … Mr Potter … Miss Granger … Mr Weasley …’ he said, opening the door a mite wider. 'I’m rather busy at the moment. If you could be quick.’

'Professor, we’ve got some information about Slytherin’s Monster,’ said Harry.

'Er - well - it’s not terribly -’ the side of Lockhart’s face they could see looked very uncomfortable. 'I mean - well - all right.’

He opened the door and they entered.

His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

'Are you going somewhere?’ said Harry.

'Er, well, yes,’ said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke, and starting to roll out up. 'Urgent call … unavoidable … got to go …’

'What about my sister?’ said Ron jerkily.

'Well, as to that - most unfortunate,’ said Lockhart, abiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. 'No one regrets more than I -'

'You’re the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!’ said Harry. 'You can’t go now! Not with all the dark stuff going on here!’

'Well, I must say … when I took the job …’ Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes, 'nothing in the job description … didn’t expect …’

'You mean you’re running away?’ said Harry disbelievingly. 'After all that stuff you did in your books?’

'Books can be misleading,’ Lockhart said delicately.

'You wrote them!’ Harry shouted.

'My dear boy,’ said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. 'Do use your common sense. My books wouldn’t have sold half as well if people didn’t think I’d done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He’d look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who vanished the Bandon Banshee had a hairy chin. I mean, come on …’

Hermione had been silent throughout the exchange as she saw her idol revealed for the coward he really was. But here she had to interrupt.

'So you’re a fraud?’ she said. 'A charlatan. You haven’t done a single thing you claim to have done? How have you gotten away with it for so long? You can’t have paid them all off.’

'Oh, sweet Miss Granger,’ Lockhart tutted. 'There was so much work involved. I had to track these people down and ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. And then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn’t remember doing it. If there’s one thing I pride myself on, it’s Memory Charms. No, it’s been a lot of work, Miss Granger. It’s not all book-signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog.’

He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.

'Let’s see,’ he said. 'I think that’s everything. Yes. Only one thing left.’

He pulled out his wand and turned to them.

'Awfully sorry, all, but I’ll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can’t have you blabbing -’

’Expelliarmus!’ Hermione shouted before he had chance to say any more. Lockhart was blasted backwards, falling over his trunk. His wand flew high into the air; Ron caught it and flung it out of the open window.

'Blimey, Hermione,’ he said, 'You’ll have to teach me that one some time.’

Harry kicked Lockhart’s trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at him, weedy once more. Harry had his wand pointed at him.

'What d'you want me to do?’ said Lockhart weakly. 'I don’t know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There’s nothing I can do.’

'You’re in luck,’ said Harry, forcing Lockhart to his feet at wandpoint. 'Not only do we know where it is, we also know what’s inside. Let’s go.’

They marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

They sent Lockhart in first. Harry was pleased to see he was shaking. When the entered they found Myrtle sitting on a cistern, and a figure near the taps. It was Professor Black.

'I might have guessed you might show up,’ Black said.

'You’re the heir?’ Harry said.

'No, Mr Potter,’ said Black. 'I am trying to find the entrance to the Chamber in order to save Miss Weasley, though it’s not looking promising. But I found the snake Mr Malfoy mentioned. Perhaps his intuition is right, perhaps you can open it Harry with your Parseltongue abilities.’

Harry walked over to Black and saw the snake engraved on the side of the tap just as Malfoy had said.

'Say something, Harry,’ said Ron. 'Something in Parseltongue.’

'But -’ Harry thought hard. The only times he’d managed to speak Parseltongue were when he’d been faced with a real snake. He stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real.

'Open up,’ he said.

He looked at Ron, who shook his head.

'English,’ he said.

Harry looked back at the snake, willing himself to believe it was alive. If he moved his head, the candlelight made it look as though it was moving.

'Open up,’ he said.

Except the words weren’t what he heard; a strange hiding had escaped him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move. The sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

Harry heard Ron gasp and looked up again. He had made up his mind what he was going to do.

'I’m going down there,’ he said.

He couldn’t not go, not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ginny might be alive

'I think not, Mr Potter,’ said Black. 'One of you will go and fetch Professor McGonagall, whilst the rest of us wait here. Then we teachers will go down and explore.’

'No chance,’ said Ron. 'Ginny’s down there, haven’t we wasted enough time already. I’m going down right now.’

And before anyone could stop him he jumped feet first into the pipe.

'Oh, for goodness sake,’ said Black before following him.

'Well, you hardly seem to need me,’ said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile, as he began to back out of the bathroom. 'I’ll go fetch Mc -’

'You’re going down,’ said Hermione, pointing her wand at him. 'You’re the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Go defend.’

White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.

'Harry,’ he said, his voice feeble, 'come now, what good will it do?’

Harry jabbed him in the back with his wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe and Hermione pushed him down.

'What a fraud,’ she said, red in her anger at being duped.

'I think Black was right,’ said Harry. 'One of us should go and get McGonagall. If the Basilisk is down there I have the best chance of calling it off, so I think you should go.’

'Not likely,’ said Hermione, 'You wouldn’t have gotten this far without me, I’m not leaving now, especially with Ginny in danger.’ With that she slid down the pipe and Harry had no choice but to follow.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark side. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downwards, and he knew he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons.

And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe levelled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel, large enough to stand in.

Lockhart was getting to his feet a little way away. Hermione was already standing to Harry’s left. And a little way on Harry could just make out the silhouettes of Ron and Black. Though he didn’t need to see where they were. Black was shouting at Ron loud enough.

'What if the monster had been down here?’ Black said.

'Well at least I was trying to save my sister!’ Ron said.

'Mr Weasley, I fail to see how you could help your sister if you were dead.’ Black turned to see that everyone else had joined them down the pipe. 'So I take it that no one went to McGonagall?’ he asked.

No one said a word.

'Wonderful,’ said Black eventually. 'No one has the faintest idea of where we are, Slytherin’s Monster could show up any moment and I’m stuck down here with three under-aged Wizards and the most grossly incompetent teacher I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. Oh, and there’s no way we’re getting back up that way, now, is there?’

The tunnel fell silent, except for the odd whimper from Lockhart.

'Well, we’re down here now,’ said Harry, 'and I’m not going to hang around.’ He walked a little way down the tunnel, and muttered Lumos, igniting his wand.

Hermione and Professor Black also lit their own wands and the five of them moved forward cautiously, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight.

'Remember,’ said Harry quietly, 'any sign of movement, close your eyes straight away …’

But the tunnel was quiet as a grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Ron stepped on what turned out to be a rat’s skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Ginny might look like if they found her, Harry led the way forward, round a dark bend in the tunnel.

'Harry, there’s something up there …’ said Ron hoarsely, grabbing Harry’s shoulder.

The froze, watching. Harry could see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn’t moving.

'Maybe it’s asleep,’ he breathed, glancing back at the others. Lockhart’s hands were pressed over his eyes. Harry turned back to look at the thing, his heart bearing so fast it hurt.

Very slowly, his eyes as narrow as he could make them and still see, Harry began to edge forward. But Black held him back and stepped forward himself.

'It’s merely the snake’s skin,’ Black announced. The students breathed a sigh of relief and saw the vivid, poisonous green skin, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

'Blimey,’ said Ron weakly.

There was a sudden movement as Gilderoy Lockhart’s knees gave way beneath him.

'Get up,’ said Ron sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

Lockhart got to his feet - he then dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground. He straightened up panting, with Ron’s wand in his hand and a gleaming smile was back on his face.

'The adventure ends here’ he declared, raising Ron’s Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, 'Obliviate!’

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling which were thundering to the floor. Next moment it was just him and Black staring at a solid wall of broken rock.

‘Ron! Hermione!’ Harry shouted.

'Miss Granger! Mr Weasley!’ Black shouted at the same time.

'Are you ok?’ they shouted together.

'We’re here! We’re OK,’ came Hermione’s muffled voice from behind the rockfall.

'This git’s not though,’ they heard Ron say. 'He got blasted by the wand.’

There was a dull thud and a loud 'ow!’. It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

'What now?’ Ron’s voice said, sounding desperate. 'We can’t get through. It’ll take ages …’

Professor Black had his wand out and blasted one of the rocks, the tunnel shook and more debris fell from the large crack in the ceiling.

'The rocks will have to be moved by hand. You stay here Mr Potter and help from this side. Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, you start removing rock from your side, but please be careful. I will go and look for the young Miss Weasley.’

'No chance,’ Harry said. 'Sorry, Professor, but if you come across the Basilisk you can’t talk to snakes, but I can. We’re wasting time here and Ginny’s already been in the Chamber for ages.’

'Mr Potter, I am you teacher, and as such I have a duty of care towards you. There are Dark Forces ahead that you are unprepared for.’

'I’ve beaten Voldemort twice!’ Harry argued.

'Mr Potter I will hear no more arguments, stay here, otherwise I may have to force you to.’

Harry relented and watched Black walk down the tunnel. Then he addressed Ron and Hermione on the other side of the rocks.

'You two stay here with Lockhart, I’m going to find follow Black and find Ginny. He might need my help’

'But Harry,’ came Hermione’s voice, 'it’s not safe! Professor Black told you to stay here.’

'Sorry Hermione, but let’s be honest, we wouldn’t have gotten this far without my ability to speak Parseltongue, I just feel it might be needed once more.

'Be careful, Harry,’ said Ron. 'We’ll try to remove some of this rock for when you get back.’

So, Harry headed down the tunnel in silence. Soon the distant noise of Ron and Hermione straining to shift rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry’s body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he would find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, Harry saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glittering emeralds. Black was staring at it, stumped in frustration.

Harry approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real, their eyes looked strangely alive.

'Mr Potter, what an earth are you doing here?’ asked Black.

'Helping,’ Harry said.

He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

’Open,’ said Harry in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside with Black.


	18. The Heir of Slytherin

They were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart bearing very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the Basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?

'Behind me,’ Black whispered, pulling out his wand. They moved forward between the serpentine columns, each careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. Harry kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye stickers of the snakes seemed to follow them. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as they drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: it was ancient and monkey-like, with a long thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard’s sweeping stone robes, where to enormous grey feet stood on the smooth chamber floor. And between the feet, face down, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming red hair.

’Ginny!’ Harry muttered, sprinting past Black and towards her body, dropping to his knees. 'Ginny! Don’t be dead! Please don’t be dead!’ He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny’s shoulders and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn’t Petrified. But then she must be …

'Ginny, please wake up,’ Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny’s head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

'She won’t wake,’ said a soft voice.

Harry spun around on his knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaving against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him.

'Tom - Tom Riddle?’

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry’s face.

'What d'you mean, she won’t wake?’ Harry said desperately. 'She’s not - she’s not -?’

'She’s still alive,’ Riddle said. 'But only just.’

Harry stared at him. Here stood a boy that Harry knew would turn into Voldemort one day, yet here he stood in front of him looking as he did fifty years ago.

'What are you?’ Harry asked.

'A memory,’ said Riddle quietly. 'Preserved in a diary for fifty years.’

He pointed towards the for near the statue’s giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. For a second, Harry wondered how it got there - but there were more pressing matters at hand.

'What have you done to her?’ he asked.

'Well, that’s an interesting question,’ said Riddle pleasantly. 'And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley is like this is because she opened her heart and spoiled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.’

'What are you talking about?’ said Harry.

'The diary,’ said Riddle. ’My diary. Little Ginny’s been writing in it for months and months, telling me her pitiful worries and woes: how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second hand robes and books, how -’ Riddle’s eyes glinted ’- how she didn’t think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her …’

All the time he spoke, Riddle’s eyes never left Harry’s face. There was almost a hungry look in them.

'It’s very boring, having to listen to the silly troubles of an eleven-year-old girl,’ he went on. 'But I was patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom … I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in … It’s like having a friend I can carry round in my pocket …’

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn’t suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry’s neck.

(CS 228-231

’So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn’t much life left in her: she put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave it’s pages at last. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you’d come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter.’

'Like what?’ Harry spat, fists still clenched.

'Well,’ said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, 'how is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort’s powers were destroyed?’

There was a red gleam in his hungry eyes now.

'Wouldn’t you like to know?’ said Harry. 'I’m not sure myself why you lost your powers, no one is, but I defeated you back then because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother. She stopped you from killing me. and I defeated you when you returned last year, barely alive. And I’ll defeat you now.’

Riddle appeared caught off guard.

'So you worked out who I am?’ he said.

'And what you are,’ said Black, finally stepping out of the shadows. 'The diary was the first, I take it?’

Riddle spun around. 'Who are you?’ he asked.

'Regulus Black,’ said the professor. 'I think you might know of my parents, Orion and Walburga.’

'Yes, the Black’s always were a great pureblood family,’ said Riddle. 'Have you come to help my cause?’

'No, no,’ said Black. 'I’ve seen you up close and personal, a mere shell of a man. You went too far, Tom. How odd that a mere memory is the closest thing to human that you now are.’

He darted towards the diary but Riddle took out a wand and yelled ’Cruciatus!’

Black fell to the floor and writhed in agony, his scream echoing around the chamber walls.

'A shame,’ said Riddle softly, yet his voice cut through the Black’s painful moans. 'You could have done great things with me.’ Harry noticed that Riddle was holding his wand. He must have picked it up when Harry was checking on Ginny.

'Yes, Harry, I am Lord Voldemort. It was a name I was using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends, of course. I wasn’t going to use my filthy Muggles father’s name forever now, was I? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother’s side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out that my wife was a witch? No, Harry. I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!

'You’re not,’ Harry said, his quiet voice full of hated.

Riddle stopped torturing Black, who stopped screaming and just lay on the Chamber floor, panting and worn out.

'Not what?’ Riddle asked.

'Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,’ said Harry, breathing fast. 'Sorry to disappoint you, and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare take over Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re in hiding these days.’

'Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle be the mere memory of me!’ Riddle hissed.

'He’s not as gone as you might think!’ Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true.

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty chamber the music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on Harry’s scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock’s and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Harry looked up and saw it has a long, sharp golden beak and beady black eyes.

The bird had stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry’s cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

'That’s a phoenix …’ said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

’Fawkes?’ Harry breathed, and he felt the bird’s golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently.

'And that -’ said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, 'that’s the old school Sorting Hat.’

So it was. Patched, frayed and dirty, the Hat lay motionless at Harry’s feet.

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though the Riddles were laughing at once.

'This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now? I’m going to teach you a little lesson. Let’s match the powers of Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him.’

(CS 234 -237)

Harry raised his head. Black was still laying on the floor next to Ginny, wand out of reach. Riddle was pointing Harry's wand at Fawkes; there was a bang like a gun and Fawkes took flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.

'Phoenix tears ...' said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. 'Of course ... healing powers ... I forgot ...'

He looked into Harry's face. 'But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter ... you and me ...'

He raised the wand.

Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes soared back overheard and something fell into Harry's lap - _the diary. ___

__For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the Basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book._ _

__There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then ..._ _

__He had gone. Harry’s wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The Basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it._ _

__Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he’d just travelled miles by Floo powder. Slowly he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the Basilisk’s mouth._ _

__From the other end of the Chamber he heard a moan as Black struggled to stand. Harry walked over to help his professor to his feet._ _

__‘Well done, Mr Potter,’ Black said clearly still in pain after his bout of torture. A little way away Ginny also began to stir. Leaving Black to lean against the giant statue Harry rushed over to her. Her bemused eyes travelled from the huge form of the dead Basilisk, over Harry, in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face._ _

__'Harry - oh, Harry - I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn’t say it in front of Percy. It was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d-didn’t mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and - how did you kill that - that thing? W-where’s Riddle? The last thing I remember is him coming out of the diary -’_ _

__'It’s all right,’ said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole, 'Riddle’s finished. Look! Him and the Basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let’s get out of here -’_ _

__'I’m going to be expelled!’ Ginny wept, as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet._ _

__'I think not, Miss Weasley,’ said Black, hobbling over. 'Trust me when I say that Tom Riddle has gotten far more powerful sorcerers than yourself to do his bidding against their will. You are a victim in all of this.’_ _

__Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance. Harry urged Ginny forward; they stepped over the motionless coils of the dead Basilisk, through the echoing gloom and back into the tunnel. Harry heard the stone doors choose behind them with a soft hiss._ _

__After a few minutes progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sounds of slowly shifting rock reached Harry’s ears._ _

__'Ron!’ Harry yelled, speeding up. 'Ginny’s OK! We’ve got her!’_ _

__He heard Ron give a strangled cheer and they turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through a sizeable gap he and Hermione had managed to make in the rock fall._ _

__’Ginny!’ Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. 'You’re alive! I don’t believe it! What happened?’_ _

__He tried to hug her but Ginny held him off, sobbing._ _

__'But you’re okay, Ginny,’ said Ron, beaming at her. 'It’s over now, it’s - where did that bird come from?’_ _

__Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ginny._ _

__'He’s Dumbledore’s,’ said Harry, squeezing through himself._ _

__'And how come you’ve got a sword?’ said Ron, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry’s hand._ _

__'I’ll explain when we get out of here,’ said Harry, with a sideways glance at Ginny as Black pushed himself through the hole._ _

__'Where’s Lockhart?’ he asked straightening himself up._ _

__'He’s back this way, Professor,’ said Hermione. 'I think Ron’s wand backfired again, meaning he was hit point blank with the memory charm meant for us. He’s got no idea who he is or where we are.’_ _

__Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, the walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting there, humming placidly to himself._ _

__'Hello,’ he said, peering good-naturedly up at them. 'Odd sort of place, this, isn’t it? Do you live here?’_ _

__'No,’ said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry._ _

__Harry bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe._ _

__'Have you thought how we’re going to get back up this?’ he asked Ron and Hermione._ _

__'No, sorry,’ said Hermione, but Fawkes the phoenix had swooped past Harry and was now fluttering in front of him, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. Harry looked uncertainly at him._ _

__'Grab hold of his tail Harry,’ said Black. 'Phoenixes can carry incredible loads. If everyone holds hands, Fawkes should be able to carry us up to the Castle again.’_ _

__Harry tucked the sword and Sorting Hat into his belt and they all linked hands. Harry reached out and took hold of Fawkes’s strangely hot tail feathers._ _

__An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through his whole body. He reached out for Ron's hand, who in turn took Ginny's, who took Hermione's who took Black's, who took Lockhart's. A second later, with a whoosh, they were flying upwards through the pipe. Harry could hear Lockhart dangling below him saying, 'Amazing! Amazing! It's just like magic!' the chill air was whipping through Harry's hair, and before he'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over - all six of them were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that his the pipe was sliding back into place._ _

__Myrtle goggled at them._ _

__'You're alive,' she said blankly to Harry._ _

__'There's no need to send so disappointed,' he said grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime off his glasses._ _

__'Oh, well ... I'd just been thinking. If you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet,' said Myrtle, blushing silver._ _

__'Urgh!' said Ron, as they left the bathroom for the day, deserted corridor outside. 'Harry! I think Myrtle's got _find _of you! You've got competition, Ginny!'___ _

____But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny's face. Hermione scowled at Ron as she tried to comfort his sister._ _ _ _

____'Where now?' said Ron. Harry pointed._ _ _ _

____Fawkes was leading the way, glowing gold along the corridor. They strode after him, and moments later, found themselves outside Professor McGonagall’s office._ _ _ _

____Harry knocked and pushed the door open._ _ _ _


	19. After the Battle

There was a moment of silence as Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Black and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Harry’s case) blood. Then there was a scream.

’Ginny!’

It was Mrs Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She lept to her feet, closely followed by Mr Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

Harry, however, was looking past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past Harry’s ear and settled on Dumbledore’s shoulder, just as Harry found himself, Ron and Hermione being swept into Mrs Weasley’s tight embrace, as Mr Weasley shook Professor Black’s hand.

'You saved her! You saved her!’ Mrs Wesley cried. 'How did you do it?’

'I think we’d all like to know that,’ said Professor McGonagall, with a pointed look at Professor Black.

'Foolish bravery, reckless stubbornness and a little bit of luck. In other words they were Gryffindors through and through,' said Black. 'Though I'm sure there's a tale to tell in there somewhere.'

Harry laid the Sorting Hat, the Ruby encrusted sword and what remained of Riddle's diary upon McGonagall's desk.

Then he started to tell them everything. How he had heard disembodied voices that no one else could hear; how he'd discovered that he was a Parselmouth; how Hermione had put it all together and realised the monster was a Basilisk; how the two of them followed the spiders into the Forbidden Forest and spoken with Aragog who had confirmed Hermione's suspicion; how he figured out that Myrtle was the victim last time; how Ron remembered Tom Riddle's special award from that same year; how they'd found out the award was for framing Hagrid as the attacker; how Neville had told them Tom Riddle was Voldemort's birth name; how Malfoy wanted to help them ...

'And then,' said Professor McGonagall, 'Mr Malfoy discovered the entrance to the Chamber.'

'And then,' Professor Black took over, 'despite direct orders to report straight to you Professor McGonagall, they decided to follow me into the Chamber as I sought out Miss Weasley. But what's one more rule, when so many are already in pieces? Somehow they convinced this buffoon to join our party.' Black nodded in the direction of Lockhart.

Black began to recount the events within the Chamber from Lockhart Obliviating himself, to Harry and himself finding Ginny and the Spectre of Tom Riddle. He told the room how the mere memory of Riddle had managed to place him under a Cruciatus curse and released the Basilisk. Harry took over to explain that Fawkes had found them and dropped the Sorting Hat info his lap. He explained how he pulled the sword from out of the Sorting Hat and stabbed the Basilisk through the roof of its mouth, getting injured in the process.

'It would seem that Voldemort had enchanted this diary,' he said, picking up the remains from McGonnall's desk. 'Throughout the year he has been enchanting Miss Weasley and through her, opening the Chamber. Mr Potter put an end to that by stabbing it with a Basilisk fang.'

Harry noticed Black and Dumbledore shared a knowing glance.

'You-know-who has been using my daughter through a-a-a diary?' said Mrs Weasley. 'But how?'

'I've b-been writing in it,' Ginny sobbed, 'and he's been w-writing back all year -'

'Ginny!' said Mr Weasley, flabbergasted. 'Haven't I taught you _anything? _What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps it's brain. _Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was _clearly _full of Dark Magic!'______

______'I d-didn't know,' sobbed Ginny. 'I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it ...'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing straight away,’ said Dumbledore in a firm voice. 'This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.’ He strode over to the door and opened it. 'Bed rest and perhaps a large, streaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up,’ he added, twinkling kindly down at her. 'Regulus, I think it best you go visit Madam Pomfrey too after your attack, and please take Gilderoy. You’ll find she is still awake. She’s just giving out Mandrake juice - I dare say the Basilisk’s victims will be waking up any moment. No lasting harm done, there.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Mrs Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken. Then Black steered Lockhart out from corner of the room he'd been standing in, wearing a vague smile._ _ _ _ _ _

______'Goodbye,' he waved cheerily as they left the room._ _ _ _ _ _

______'You know, Minerva,’ Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, 'I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Right,’ said McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. 'I’ll leave you to deal with these three, shall I?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Certainly,’ said Dumbledore._ _ _ _ _ _

______She left, and Harry, Ron and Hermione gazed uncertainly at Dumbledore. What had McGonagall meant, deal with them? Surely - surely - they weren’t about to be punished._ _ _ _ _ _

______'I seen to remember telling you boys that I would have to expel you if you broke any more rules,’ said Dumbledore._ _ _ _ _ _

______Ron opened his mouth in horror._ _ _ _ _ _

______'Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words,’ Dumbledore went on, smiling. 'Each of you will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and - let me see - yes, I think one hundred and fifty points apiece for Gryffindor.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart’s Valentine flowers and closed his mouth again._ _ _ _ _ _

______'I’m sure you're anxious to reunite with your family, Mr Weasley. If you and Hermione return to the Gryffindor common room and tell your brothers the good news. But best not to go to the Hospital Wing straight away, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey has plenty to do without keeping an eye on visitors for the moment. I would like a few more words with you though Harry, please.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ron and Hermione left the office, throwing a curious look at Harry as they closed the door._ _ _ _ _ _

______Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire._ _ _ _ _ _

______(CS 244-249)_ _ _ _ _ _

______*_ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was in their pyjamas, and the celebrations lasted all night. Harry didn't know whether the best bit was Malfoy walking across from the Slytherin table to say a begrudging well done, before scarpering back before anyone saw him, or Hagrid turning up at half past three, cuffing Harry and Ron so hard on the shoulders that they were knocked into their plates of trifle, or the four hundred and fifty points he, Ron and Hermione had received securing the House Cup for the second year running, or Professor McGonagall standing up to tell them all that the exams had been cancelled ('Oh _no! _' said Hermione), or Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.___ _ _ _ _ _

________'Shame,' said Ron, helping himself to a jam doughnut. 'He was just starting to grow on me.'_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________*_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________(CS 250-251)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	20. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban: The Knight Bus

(POA 7-17)

Harry went down to breakfast next morning to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. Dudley had spent most of his summer in the kitchen, his piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and his five chins wobbling as he ate continually.

Harry sat between Dudley and Uncle Vernon, a large, beefy man with very little neck and a lot of moustache. Far from wishing Harry a happy birthday, none of the Dursleys gave any sign that they had noticed Harry enter the room, but Harry was far too use to this to care. He helped himself to a piece of toast and then looked up at the newsreader on the television and almost fell off his chair.

The report was about an escaped convict. And through the gaunt face and matted, elbow-length tangle of hair, there Harry felt sure he recognised the man.

’… the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately.’

That confirmed it then, this man was the brother of Professor Black, the Potions Master at Hogwarts. For just over a year now Harry had known that Professor Black had a brother, one who had been friends with his own father no less. And then, last school year, when he and his friends were doing research into who the Heir of Slytherin might be Harry discovered that Black's brother had been sent to Azkaban for the murder of 12 Muggles.

‘No need to tell us he’s no good,’ snorted Uncle Vernon, starting over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. 'Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!’

He shot a nasty look at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon. Harry daren’t tell him that Black was a wizard, he didn’t feel that would go down too well.

The newsreader had reappeared.

'The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today -’

'Hang on!’ barked Uncle Vernon, starting furiously at the newsreader. 'You didn’t tell us where that maniac’s escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!’

Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. Harry knew Aunt Petunia would love to be the one to call the hotline number. She was the nosiest woman in the world and spent most of her life spying on her boring, law-abiding neighbours.

'When will they learn,’ said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, 'that hanging’s the only way to deal with these people?’

'Very true,’ said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door’s runner beans.

Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch and added, 'I’d better be off in a minute, Petunia, Marge’s train gets in at ten.’

Harry’s mind was taken from one unpleasant thought to another.

'Aunt Marge?' he blurted out. 'Sh-she's not coming here, is she?'

(POA 19-33)

Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry from the front page. It was Professor Black’s brother.

'That man!’ Harry said, forgetting his troubles for a moment. 'He was on the Muggle news!’

Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled.

'Sirius Black,’ he said, nodding. “Course 'e was on the Muggles news, Neville. Where you been?’

He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harry’s face, removed the front page and handed it to Harry.

'You oughta read the papers more, Neville.’

Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and read:

_BLACK STILL AT LARGE_

_Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still evading capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today._

_'We are doing all we can to recapture Black,’ said the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, 'and we beg for the magical community to remain calm.’_

_Fudge has been criticised by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._

_'Well, really, I had to, don’t you know,’ said an irritable Fudge. 'Black is mad. He’s a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister’s assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black’s true identity to anyone. And let’s face it - who’d believe him if he did?’_

_While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand which Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse. ___

__Thirteen. Harry was sure Hermione said it was twelve Muggles that Professor Black’s brother had murdered._ _

__'Scary-lookin’ fing, inee?’ said Stan, who had been watching Harry read._ _

__'He murdered _thirteen people _?’ said Harry, handing the page back to Stan.___ _

____'Yep,’ said Stan. 'In front of witnesses an’ all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?’_ _ _ _

____'Ar,’ said Ern darkly._ _ _ _

____Stan swivelled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry._ _ _ _

____'Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo,’ he said._ _ _ _

____'What, Voldemort?’ said Harry, without thinking._ _ _ _

____Even Stan’s pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus._ _ _ _

____'You outta your tree?’ yelped Stan. ’'Choo say his name for?’_ _ _ _

____'Sorry,’ said Harry hastily. 'Sorry, I - I forgot -’_ _ _ _

____'Forgot!’ said Stan weakly. 'Blimey, my 'eart’s goin’ that fast …’_ _ _ _

____'So - so black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?’ Harry prompted apologetically._ _ _ _

____'Yeah,’ said Stan, still rubbing his chest. 'Yeah that’s right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say … anyway, when little 'Arry Potter put paid to You-Know-'Oo’ - Harry nervously flattened his fringe down again - 'all You-Know-'Oo’s supporters was tracked down, wasn’t they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e’d be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over._ _ _ _

____'Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an’ Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an’ a wizard got it, an’ so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh?’_ _ _ _

____So he murdered a wizard as well as the twelve Muggles. Black was a powerful and evil wizard alright._ _ _ _

____''An you know what Black did then?’ Stan continued in a dramatic whisper._ _ _ _

____'What?’ said Harry, his heart sinking._ _ _ _

____'Laughed, said Stan. 'Jus’ stood there an’ laughed. An’ when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv 'em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e’s mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?’_ _ _ _

____'If he weren’t when he went into Azkaban, he will be now,’ said Ern in his slow voice. 'I’d blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind … after what he did …’_ _ _ _

____'They 'ad a job coverin’ it up, din’ they, Ern?’ Stan said. ’'Ole street blown up an’ all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?’_ _ _ _

____'Gas explosion,’ grunted Ern._ _ _ _

____'An’ now 'e’s out,’ said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black’s gaunt face again. 'Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin’, eh? Mind, I don’t fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern.’_ _ _ _

____Ernie suddenly shivered._ _ _ _

____'Talk about summat else, Stan, there’s a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles.’_ _ _ _

____Stan put the paper away reluctantly and Harry leant against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever. This Sirius was a murderer all right, and a supporter of Voldemort. And Harry’s dad had been best friends with him, what kind of a man did that mean he was? And he couldn't help imagining what Stan might be telling his passengers in a few nights' time_ _ _ _

____''Ear about that 'Arry Potter? Blew up 'is Aunt! We 'ad 'im 'ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? 'E was tryin' to run for it ...'_ _ _ _

____(POA 35-55)_ _ _ _

____So, Sirius Black was after him. That explained everything. Fudge had been lenient with him because he was so relieved to find him alive. He’d made Harry promise to stay in Diagon Alley, where there were plenty of wizards to keep an eye on him. And he was sending two Ministry cars to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Weasleys could look after Harry until he was on the train._ _ _ _

____Harry lay listening to the muffled shouting next door and wondered why he didn’t feel more scared. Sirius Black had murdered thirteen people with one curse; Mr and Mrs Weasley obviously thought Harry would be panic-stricken of he knew the truth. But Harry happened to agree whole-heartedly with Mrs Weasley that the safest place on earth was wherever Albus Dumbledore happened to be. Didn’t people always say that Dumbledore was the only person Lord Voldemort had ever been afraid of? Surely Sirius Black, as Voldemort’s right hand man, would be just as frightened._ _ _ _

____Harry just couldn’t see how his father, who married a Muggle-born would ever be friends with such a man. Did he know that Sirius Black was Voldemort’s right hand man? Were they still friends when Voldemort came to kill Harry and his parents?_ _ _ _

____And then there were these Azkaban guards everyone kept talking about. They seemed to scare most people senseless, and if they were stationed all around the school, Sirius Black's chances of getting inside seemed very remote._ _ _ _

____No, all in all, the thing that bothered Harry most was the fact that his chances of visiting Hogsmede now looked like zero. Nobody would want Harry to leave the safety of the castle until Black was caught; in fact, Harry suspected his every move would be carefully watched until the danger had passed._ _ _ _

____He scowled at the dark ceiling. Did they think he couldn't look after himself? He'd escaped Lord Voldemort three times, he wasn't completely useless ..._ _ _ _

____Unbidden, the image of the best in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent crossed his mind. _What to do when you know the worst is coming _...___ _ _ _

______'I'm not going to be murdered,' Harry said out loud._ _ _ _ _ _

______'That's the spirit, dear,' said his mirror sleepily._ _ _ _ _ _


	21. Back to Hogwarts

POA (56-60)

Harry explained to Ron and Hermione all about Mr and Mrs Weasley’s argument, the warning Mr Weasley had just given him and that Sirius Black and his dad had been friends. When he’d finished Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, ‘Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry … you’ll have to be really, really careful. Don’t go looking for trouble, Harry …’

'I don’t go looking for trouble,’ said Harry, nettled. 'Trouble usually finds me.’

'How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?’ said Ron shakily. 'And you reckon he was your dad’s mate?’

'Well Dumbledore once said that Professor Black’s brother was one of my dad’s friends, yeah,’ said Harry. 'So, unless they have a secret third brother I’d say this is the one.’

All of a sudden a faint, tiny sort of whistle could be heard in their compartment. Harry was glad if the distraction. He was glad to get that off his chest, but didn’t feel like answering any more questions on the subject which would inevitably have followed.

'What's that noise?' asked Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. 'It's coming from your trunk, Harry.' a moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry's robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand, and glowing brilliantly.

POA (61-63)

At one o'clock the plump witch with the food trolley arrived at the compartment for.

’D'you think we should wake him up?’ Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. 'He looks like he could do with some food.’

Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.

'Er - Professor?’ she said. 'Excuse me - Professor?’

He didn’t move.

'Don’t worry, dear,’ said the witch, as she handed Harry a large stack of Cauldron Cakes. 'If he’s hungry when he wakes, I’ll be up front with the driver.’

'I suppose he is asleep?’ said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment for shut. 'I mean - he hasn’t died, has he?’

'No, no, he’s breathing,’ whispered Hermione, taking the Cauldron Cake Harry passed her.

He might not have been very good company, but Professor Lupin’s presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps in the corridor again, and Draco Malfoy appeared at the door, with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco Malfoy and Harry had never gotten on since they met on their very first train journey to Hogwarts. Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face, was in Slytherin house; he played Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the same position Harry played on the Gryffindor team - and Harry had reluctantly given him lessons last year. In return Draco had helped them discover the truth about Salazar Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets, hidden for centuries deep beneath the castle. But he kept up appearances in front of his fellow Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Malfoy’s bidding. They were both wide and muscly; Crabbe was the taller, with a pudding-basin haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.

'Well, look who it is,’ said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. 'Potty and the Weasel.’

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.

'I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Wesley,’ said Malfoy. 'Did your mother die of shock?’

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks’s basket to the floor. Professor Lupin have a snort. It would seem that, in public at least, Malfoy wasn’t going to be as cordial as he was last year.

'Who’s that?’ said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backwards as he spotted Lupin.

'New teacher,’ said Harry, who had got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back. 'What were you saying, Malfoy?’

Malfoy’s pale eyes narrowed; he wasn’t fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher’s nose.

'C'mon,’ he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.

(POA 64-68)

'All righ', you three?' Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting then away along the platform. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed the rest of the school out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside one and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

The coach smelled faintly of mould and straw. Harry felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. Ron and Hermione kept looking at him sideways, as though frightened he might collapse again.

As the carriage trundle towards a pair of magnificent wrought-iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harry saw two more towing, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leant back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed through the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron got out.

As Harry stepped down a hesitant voice sounded in his ear.

'Is it true, Potter? Did you faint at the Dementors?’

It was Malfoy, no longer with his fellow Slytherins, and showing some concern.

'What’s it to you, Malfoy?’ said Ron, still not over the comments about his family and not able to stand how two-faced Malfoy could be.

'If you must know, Weasley,’ Malfoy said, through gritted teeth, 'I too suffered through their appearance on the train. I didn’t faint though,’ he added quickly. 'I’m surprised that Harry did, that’s all. They feed on fear, you know? Suck the joy and happiness right out of you.’

'Professor Lupin gave me some chocolate and that seemed to help,’ said Harry, empathising with Malfoy, despite himself.

'I have a little more if anyone needs a pick-me-up,' said a mild vice. Professor Lupin himself had just got out of the next carriage.

Malfoy regarded Professor Lupin, taking in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. 'No thanks -er - Professor,’ said Malfoy, before turning back to his fellow Slytherins.

Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak doors, and into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches and housed a magnificent marble staircase, which led to the upper floors.

(POA 69-72)

'On a happier note,’ Dumbledore continued, 'I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

'Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.’

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic, applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

'Look at Black!’ Ron hissed in Harry’s ear.

Professor Black was still as pale as ever, but looking less gaunt than before. He looked younger and, dare Harry say, handsome. Healthier certainly. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his brother was out of prison. That wasn’t what Ron had brought him to Harry’s attention for though. Black was staring intently along the staff table at Professor Lupin.

It was common knowledge that Black wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry was startled at the expression on Black’s face. It was beyond anger: it was loathing.

'As to our second new appointments,' Dumbledore continued, as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away, 'well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.'

(POA 73-74)


	22. The Boggart

Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast and took their place at the Gryffindor table next to Fred and George.

'New third year timetables,' said George, passing them over.

'Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today,' said Hermione happily.

'Hermione,' said Ron, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, 'They've messed up your timetable. Look - they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough _time _.__

__'I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.'_ _

__'But look,' said Ron laughing, 'see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock Muggle Studies. And -' Ron leave closer to the timetable, disbelieving, 'look - underneath that, Arithmancy, _nine o'clock _. I mean I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?'___ _

____'Don't be silly,' said Hermione shortly. 'Of course I won't be in three classes at once.'_ _ _ _

____'Well, then -'_ _ _ _

____'Pass the marmalade,' said Hermione._ _ _ _

____'But -'_ _ _ _

____'Oh, Ron, what's it to you if my timetable's a bit full?' Hermione snapped. 'I told you, I've fixed it all with Professor McGonnall.'_ _ _ _

____Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and was absent-mindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand_ _ _ _

____'All righ'?' he said eagerly, pausing on the way to the staff table. 'Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready ... hope it's OK ... me, a teacher ... hones'ly ...'_ _ _ _

____He grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat._ _ _ _

____'Wonder what he's been getting ready?' said Ron, a note of anxiety in his voice._ _ _ _

____The Hall was starting to empty as people headed off towards their first lesson. Ron checked his timetable._ _ _ _

____'We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there ...'_ _ _ _

____They finished their breakfast hastily, said goodbye to Fred and George and walked back through the Hall._ _ _ _

____The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. Two years at Hogwarts hadn't taught them everything about the castle, and they had never been inside North Tower before_ _ _ _

____(POA 77-93)_ _ _ _

____Thursday morning the Slytherins and Gryffindors had double potions. Malfoy still hadn’t made an appearance since the incident with Buckbeak._ _ _ _

____‘Before we begin today's lesson,’ Professor Black said as the class settled down at their work stations, 'I would like to address the erumpent in the room. I am sure that by now you are all aware that the murderer Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban prison. I am sure that many of you have even come to the conclusion we are related. This is true, we are. In fact he is my older brother.’ There were gasps around the room at this revelation, particularly from Lavender and Parvati._ _ _ _

____'I can assure you,’ Black continued, 'that I do not condone his actions and the Dementors that surround this school have my full support to do what they deign necessary to capture him and make sure he never sees the light of day again.’_ _ _ _

____Harry thought it was all very cold, calculated and over-rehearsed, but could dwell no further as Black began their lesson proper._ _ _ _

____Halfway through their class, Malfoy swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Harry’s opinion, as though he was the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle._ _ _ _

____'Mr Malfoy,’ said Black, as Draco took his seat. 'You are an hour late to my lesson. Would you care to explain yourself?’_ _ _ _

____Malfoy looked as if he’d just been struck by Buckbeack again._ _ _ _

____'I’m waiting for your excuse, Mr Malfoy. And it had better be good.’_ _ _ _

____'Madame Pomfrey has only just signed my out of the Hospital Ward, Professor,’ Malfoy said eventually._ _ _ _

____'You and I both know this to be false, Mr Malfoy. Madame Pomfrey fixed you up immediately after the incident and recommended bed rest for the rest of the day. That was at the start of the week. You have missed every class since and you have turned up to mine an hour late. 50 points from Slytherin, and I will see you in my office tonight at 6pm sharp to discuss you detention. And please take off that ridiculous bandage; Madame Pomfrey is one of the best healers in this country and you do her a disservice by wearing it.’_ _ _ _

____Malfoy had gone as red as a beet. He looked downcast at his Cauldron and took off his bandage, revealing a scar free arm._ _ _ _

____'Carry on,’ Black said to the class before returning to his marking._ _ _ _

____They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table. He began chopping his daisy roots in silence. The other Slytherins were glaring at him furiously._ _ _ _

____'Father’s written to the Governors, by the way,’ Malfoy said quietly. 'And the Ministry of Magic. I thought you ought to know. He’s going to try and get Hagrid sacked.’_ _ _ _

____'Is that why you were still wearing your bandage?’ Harry hissed. Malfoy didn’t answer, but his embarrassed silence told Harry everything._ _ _ _

____'Hey, Harry,’ said Seamus Finnegan, leaning over to borrow Harry’s brass scales a little while later, breaking the uncomfortable silence, 'have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning - they reckon Sirius Black’s been sighted._ _ _ _

____'Where?’ said Harry and Ron quickly. On the other side of the table, Malfoy looked up, listening closely._ _ _ _

____'Not too far from here,’ said Seamus, who looked excited. 'It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn’t really understand. The Muggles think he’s an ordinary criminal, don’t they? So she 'phoned the telephone hotline. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone.’_ _ _ _

____'Not too far from here …’ Ron repeated, looking significantly at Harry. He turned around and saw Malfoy watching closely. 'What are you looking at, Malfoy?’_ _ _ _

____Malfoy’s eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed on Harry. He leant across the table_ _ _ _

____'Thinking of trying to catch Sirius Black single-handedly, Potter?_ _ _ _

____'Yeah, that’s right,’ said Harry offhandedly._ _ _ _

____Malfoy’s thin mouth was curving into a mean smile._ _ _ _

____'Of course, if it was me,’ he said quietly, 'I’d have done something before now. I wouldn’t be staying in school like a good little boy, I’d be out there looking for him.’_ _ _ _

____'Mr Malfoy,’ came Professor Black’s voice, before the conversation could continue. 'Is it not enough that you were late, but you have to continue chatting incessantly too. Ten more points from Slytherin. At this rate, you’ll be single handedly responsible for taken us into negative figures, something not achieved by a house since the Great Hufflepuff Folly of 1846.’_ _ _ _

____At the end of class Black tested everyone’s potion on old textbooks. Everyone’s potion worked, except for Malfoy’s. Harry's textbook was about half the size it had begun, whereas Neville’s book was as small as his pinkie's fingernail. Hermione’s was a close second and the two of them gained Gryffindor five points apiece._ _ _ _

____After the lesson was over Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall together._ _ _ _

____'Nice one you two, ten points from Black is a nice start to the school year,' said Ron. 'Especially with those 60 he took off Malfoy.'_ _ _ _

____Harry still couldn't get his head around Malfoy. One minute he was warning them that his father was going to try and get Hagrid fired, the next he was trying to glad Harry about Sirius Black._ _ _ _

____'I think Potions must be the only class you're not too of thanks to Neville,' Ron continued, looking back to Hermione. 'Hey - where'd Hermione go?'_ _ _ _

____Harry and Neville turned back too. They were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest of the class pass them, heading for the Great Hall and lunch._ _ _ _

____'She was right behind us,' said Ron, frowning._ _ _ _

____Malfoy passed them, trailing behind his fellow Slytherins who refused to talk to him after the points he'd lost them. Even Crabbe and Goyle who were beside him as usual looked unusually angry. Malfoy's eyes caught Harry's own and Harry noticed a sorrow in them as if he was trying not to cry._ _ _ _

____'She's coming now,' said Neville._ _ _ _

____Hermione was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand clutching her bag, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of her robes._ _ _ _

____(POA 98-100)_ _ _ _

____The staff room, a long, panelled room full of old, mismatched furniture, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Black was sitting on a wooden ladderback chair, reading The Daily Prophet. He folded the paper as the class shuffled in and stood up._ _ _ _

____'Apologies, Remus, I forgot you were holding class here today. I'll be on my way.'_ _ _ _

____'You're more than welcome to stay, Regulus. I can see that you're - ah - comfy ...'_ _ _ _

____'No, no. It's no problem at all. I don't think I'd be a fan of another teacher watching my class and methods, so I'll be off. There's some fifth year essays I must mark anyway.' With that he left the staff room and shut them in._ _ _ _

____'Now, then,’ said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class towards the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe in which the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe have a sudden wobble, banging off the wall._ _ _ _

____(POA 101)_ _ _ _

____'We will practise the charm without wands first. After me, please … riddikulus!’_ _ _ _

____'Riddikulus!’ said the class together._ _ _ _

____'Good,’ said Professor Lupin. 'Very good. But that was the easy part, I’m afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. Let’s see … ah, Ronald, perhaps you can help in this next bit. What would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?’_ _ _ _

____'Spiders, Professor,’ said Ron, shuddering at the thought. There were a couple of titters amongst the class. 'And I prefer Ron.’_ _ _ _

____'Very well, Ron. Now, let’s think about how we could make a spider amusing. How about giving it roller skates?’_ _ _ _

____Ron blanched at the thought. 'But then it could get me quicker!’ The were a few more laughs this time. 'I’d rather it have no legs, just rolling around like a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavoured Bean.’_ _ _ _

____'Very good, Ron,' Professor Lupin chuckled. 'When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe and sees you, it will assume the form of a spider. You will raise your wand - thus - and cry “Riddikulus” - and concentrate hard on it having no legs and rolling around like a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavoured Bean.’_ _ _ _

____The wardrobe wobbled more violently._ _ _ _

____'If Ron is successful, the Boggart is likely to turn his attention to each of us in turn,’ said Professor Lupin. 'I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical …’_ _ _ _

____The room went quiet. Harry thought ... What scared him most in the world?_ _ _ _

____His first thought was Lord Voldemort - a Voldemort returned to full strength. But before he had even started to plan a possible counter-attack on a Boggart-Voldemort, a horrible image can floating to the surface of his mind ..._ _ _ _

____A rotting, glistening hand, slithering back beneath a black cloak ... a long, rattling breath from an unseen mouth ... Then a cold so penetrating it felt like drowning ..._ _ _ _

____Harry shivered, then looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Many people had their eyes shut tight. Neville was muttering to himself, 'She's just breakdancing.' Harry was intrigued to see who Neville was scared of._ _ _ _

____'Everyone ready?' said Professor Lupin._ _ _ _

____Harry felt a lurch of fear. He wasn't ready. How could you make a Dementor less frightening? But he didn't want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves._ _ _ _

____'Ron, we’re going to back away,’ said Professor Lupin. 'Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward … Everyone back, now, so Ron can get a clear shot -’_ _ _ _

____They all retreated, backing against the walls, leaving Ron alone beside the wardrobe. He held his wand ready and gulped, ready for the Spider that was about to confront him._ _ _ _

____'On the count of three, Ron,’ said Professor Lupin, who was putting his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. 'One - two - three - now!’_ _ _ _

____A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking it’s pincers menacingly. A few students screamed. Harry thought of Hagrid’s pet, Aragog, who he and Hermione had encountered last year and was about twice the size of the beast in front of them. If Ron had been with them, Harry dreaded to think how he would have reacted._ _ _ _

____'Riddikulus!’ bellowed Ron. There was a noise like a whip-crack and the spider’s legs vanished. It rolled over and over until it landed at Dean’s feet. The legless spider turned into a severed hand with a crack. It flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab._ _ _ _

____'Riddikulus!’ yelled Dean._ _ _ _

____There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap._ _ _ _

____'Excellent! Seamus, forward!’_ _ _ _

____There was another crack and the hand was now a woman with floor length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face - a banshee. She opened her mouth wide, and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek which made the hair in Harry’s head stand up on end -_ _ _ _

____'Riddikulus!’ shouted Seamus._ _ _ _

____The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone._ _ _ _

____'Parvati!’ Lupin roared._ _ _ _

____Parvati stepped forward, her face set. The banshee turned to her and with another crack became a blood-stained, bandaged mummy. It began to walk very slowly towards Parvati, dragging is feet, stiff arms raising -_ _ _ _

____'Riddikulus!’ cried Parvati._ _ _ _

____A bandage unravelled at the mummy’s get; it became entangled and fell forwards and it’s head rolled off._ _ _ _

____Crack! The mummy turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then - crack! - became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before - crack! - becoming a single, bloody eyeball._ _ _ _

____'It’s confused!’ shouted Lupin. 'We’re getting there! Neville!’_ _ _ _

____Neville stepped forward, nervously. The eyeball turned into his grandmother, who was writing on the floor, seemingly in great pain._ _ _ _

____'Ri-ri-rid-’ Neville stuttered. Lupin took the opportunity to jump in and Neville’s grandmother disappeared in another crack._ _ _ _

____For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where the Boggart was. Then they saw a silvery white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said 'Riddikulus!’ almost lazily._ _ _ _

____Crack!_ _ _ _

____'Forward, Ron, and finish him off!’ said Lupin, as the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! The spider returned._ _ _ _

____'Riddikulus!’ Ron shouted, the Spider lost it’s legs again and as it fell to the floor it exploded, bursting into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone._ _ _ _

____'Excellent!’ cried Lupin, as the class broke into applause. 'Excellent, Ron. Well done, everyone. Let me see … five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart - ten for Ron because he did it twice - and five each for Harry and Hermione.’_ _ _ _

____'But I didn’t do anything,’ said Harry._ _ _ _

____'You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry,’ Lupin said lightly. 'Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarise or for me … to be handed in on Monday. That will be all, except for you Neville, I’d like to have a word, if I may.’_ _ _ _

____Talking excitedly the class left the staff room. Harry, Ron and Hermione hung back to wait for Neville._ _ _ _

____'That was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson we’ve ever had, wasn’t it?’ said Ron excitedly._ _ _ _

____'He seems a very good teacher,’ said Hermione approvingly. 'But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart …’_ _ _ _

____Harry couldn’t help but agree. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Lupin’s eyes passed over him whenever he chose a student to confront the Boggart._ _ _ _

____'What would it have been for you?’ Ron asked Hermione, sniggering. 'A piece of homework that only for nine out of ten?’_ _ _ _

____The door opened and Neville walked out, looking slightly less shaken than before._ _ _ _

____'Are you alright Neville?’ Harry said._ _ _ _

____'Yeah, fine thanks, let’s go get our stuff,’ said Neville, before leading the way back to the classroom. Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a glance, silently agreeing to drop the subject of his Boggart until Neville felt comfortable discussing it with them, before following him back to the classroom._ _ _ _


	23. Hallowe'en 1993

In no time at all Defense Against the Dark Arts had become everyone's favorite class. Professor Lupin's next lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed, in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had got lost. From Red Caps they moved on to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

Harry only wished he was as happy with some of his other classes. Professor Black was as strict as ever in Potions, but there was an odd buoyancy to the way moved around the dungeons, as if a weight had recently been lifted from his shoulders. Harry couldn't help thinking it might have something to do with his brother's escape.

Harry was also growing to dread the hours he spent in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lop-sided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Professor Trelawney's enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at him. He couldn't like Professor Trelawney, even though she was tested with respect bordering on reverence by many of the class. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had taken to haunting Professor Trelawney's tower room at lunchtimes, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things others didn't. They had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Harry, as though he was on his deathbed.

(POA 108-118)

‘Anything worrying you Harry?’ Lupin asked.

'No,’ Harry lied. He drank a bit of tea and watched the Grindylow brandishing a fist at him. 'Yes,’ he said suddenly, putting his tea down on Lupin’s desk. 'I’m worried about Neville. He seems to be quieter than normal at the moment. Since the Boggart, I mean.’

Lupin drew a deep breath.

'That’s true,’ he said. 'Neville has been through a lot in his short life, not dissimilar from yourself. He and I are working through it though, I suggest you continue to give him space and he’ll talk to you when he’s ready to.’

Harry took a sip of tea, and another concern came to him.

'That day we fought the Boggart you seemed to be avoiding letting me fight it,’ he said.

Lupin raised his eyebrows.

'Well yes,’ he said, sounding suprised, 'I thought it would be obvious why.’

Harry, who had expected Lupin to deny that he’d done any such thing, was taken aback.

'Why?’ he asked.

'Well,’ said Lupin, frowning slightly, ’ I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.’

Harry stared. Not only was this the last answer he’d expected, but Lupin had said Voldemort’s name. The only person Harry had heard say the name aloud (apart from himself) was Professor Dumbledore.

'Clearly I was wrong,’ said Lupin, still frowning at Harry. 'But I didn’t think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialise in the staff room. I imagined that people would panic.’

'I did think of Voldemort first,’ said Harry honestly. 'But then I - I remembered those Dementors.’

'I see,’ said Lupin thoughtfully. 'Well, well … I’m impressed.’ He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harry’s face. 'That suggests that what you fear most of all is - fear. Very wise, Harry.’

Harry didn’t know what to say to that, so he drank some more tea.

'So you’ve been thinking that I didn’t believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?’ said Lupin shrewdly.

'Well - yeah,’ said Harry. He was suddenly feeling a lot happier. 'Professor Lupin, you know the Dementors -’

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

'Come in,’ called Lupin.

The door opened, and in came Black.

'Regulus,’ said Lupin, smiling, 'how can I help?’

'Sorry to intrude Remus, but it was actually Mr Potter I was looking for,’ Black said. 'I managed to catch everyone else as they left for Hogsmeade and thought I might find you here. As usual, the first Slug Club of the year will be held tonight, in dungeon 12. Remus, that thing you asked for is ready, by the way. I’ll be in my office until 6pm, though I suggest you come by sooner, rather than later.’

With that he turned on his heel and closed the door behind him. Lupin smiled at Harry, mischievously.

'So,’ he said, 'you’re part of the Slug Club, are you?’

Harry suddenly felt embarrassed. He hadn’t realised he’d still be part of the Club as it had been Professor Lockhart, last year’s incompetent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who’d first invited him. After her was revealed as a fraud and accidentally wiped his own memory Harry assumed he’d be struck off the list, especially considering Black had made it abundantly clear he did not agree with Harry joining.

'Your mother and I were part of the Slug Club when we were at school, you know? Back when old Slughorn was Potions Master. I had heard that Professor Black had continued the tradition when he took over the role.’

'You knew my mother?’ Harry said, surprised.

'Oh yes, a very talented witch. Your father always said he didn’t deserve her ... he was probably right, but no one made her laugh quite like he did. There was no one else in her eyes, and no one else in his.’

Lupin seemed very withdrawn all of a sudden as if he was remembering Harry’s parents in their schooldays. Harry could swear he saw a tear beginning to well in the corner of his eye.

'Well, Harry,’ said Professor Lupin finally, 'I’d better get back to work. I don’t suppose I’ll see you at the feast, but have fun at the Slug Club.’

'Right,’ said Harry, putting his empty teacup down. 'See you soon.’

*

'There you go,' said Ron. 'We got as much as we could carry.'

A shower of brilliantly coloured sweets fell into Harry's lap. It was dusk, and Ron, Hermione and Neville had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.

'Thanks,' said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. 'What's Hogsmede like? Where did you go?'

By the sound of it - everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot Butterbeer and many places besides.

'The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all colour-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!'

'And you should see the size of the Venemous Tentacular!'

'Honeydukes have got a new kind of fudge, they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look -'

'We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks -'

'Though nothing compared to the Hog's Head -'

'Wish we could have brought you some Butterbeer, really warms you up -’

'What did you do?’ said Hermione, looking anxious. 'Did you get any work done?’

'No,’ said Harry. 'Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. He was at school with my mum and dad apparently. I suppose he probably knew Professor Black’s brother too.’

'We'd better go down,' said Hermione, checking her watch. 'We don't want to keep Professor Black waiting.' They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd.

'And Black said he had something for Lupin in his office. Have either of you noticed that Black seems happier at the moment?'

'I know what you mean, Harry,' said Ron. 'He looks younger and healthier. Almost normal.'

'Exactly,' said Harry, 'it's as if something happened over the summer that made him happier.'

'If,' said Hermione in a warning tone. 'You two are suggest that Professor Black had anything to do with his brother's escape I'd like to remind you that he was _not _after the Philosopher's Stone, _nor _was he the Heir of Slytherin. Honestly, you two should know better by now!'____

____They had reached the Great Hall and so Harry, Hermione and Neville said their good-byes to Ron and walked down to Dungeon 12._ _ _ _

____Dungeon 12 was the largest of the dungeons and was decorated for Hallowe'en; much more tastefully then last year. In the corner a pianist was playing a cobweb covered grand piano. Corbin Constance was his name, and he had been a member of the club as a Ravenclaw in the early 80s before finding fame as a musician, and had just come off a summer tour with The Weird Sisters. His golden hair fell to his stool._ _ _ _

____Harry saw his Quidditch rival, Hufflepuff seeker and prefect Cedric Diggory, talking with a fifth year Ravenclaw. Percy was dancing with his girlfriend Penelope Clearwater, this year's Head Field. From his own year he saw four new additions to the club, Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw Padma Patil standing nervously at the edge of the room and two Slytherins, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini giggling in the corner with fellow housemate Adrian Pucey. And then in walked a very nervous Ginny Weasley._ _ _ _

____Professor Black walked over to her and welcomed her in to the Dungeon. Harry gave her a little wave from across the room and she scurried over to them._ _ _ _

____'You didn't tell us you'd been invited, Ginny,' said Hermione, 'you could have walked down with us.'_ _ _ _

____'I d-don't really deserve to be here,' Ginny said quietly. 'I think I was invited out of sympathy for what happened last year.'_ _ _ _

____'Don't be stupid,' said Harry. 'You went a whole year being manipulated by Voldemort and survived. That takes a lot of strength, Black can see that.' Ginny blushed, but before anyone could say anything else dinner was announced, so they took their seats at the table._ _ _ _

____The night went quickly enough, though no one really wanted to bring up the subject that was on everyone’s mind: Sirius Black. Whenever he was mentioned, even in passing, Professor Black’s eyes lit in anger and conversation quickly moved on to something else._ _ _ _

____Eventually the night came to a close and Professor Black sent them to their dormitories. Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny joined the throng of students leaving the Feast from the Great Hall, finding Ron as he ascended the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower._ _ _ _

____'You missed a great night!’ Ron said. 'Nearly Headless Nick re-enacted his beheading - it was brilliant! I couldn't find you anywhere though Ginny ...’_ _ _ _

____'She was with us, Ronald,' said Hermione matter-of-factly as they reached the corridor which ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady 'Black invited her to the Slug Club.'_ _ _ _

____Ron had no chance to respond though as the corridor was jammed with students._ _ _ _

____'Why isn't anyone going in?' said Ron curiously._ _ _ _

____Harry peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed._ _ _ _

____Kenneth Towler, one of the new Gryffindor Prefects, pushed through the crowd._ _ _ _

____'What's the problem,' he was asking as he made his way to the portrait. 'Has everyone forgotten the password?'_ _ _ _

____And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor._ _ _ _

____'What on earth is going on here?' asked Percy, arriving at the scene, a smudge of lipstick on his shirt collar. 'Why is no one in their dormitories?'_ _ _ _

____'We need Dumbledore,' came Kenneth's panicked voice from the front of the crowd. 'We need Dumbledore now.'_ _ _ _

____People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on their tip toes._ _ _ _

____Next moment, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping towards the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Harry and his friends moved closer to see what the trouble was._ _ _ _

____'Oh, my -' Hermione exclaimed and grabbed Harry's arm._ _ _ _

____The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely._ _ _ _

____Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes sombre, to see Professors McGonagall and Lupin hurrying towards him._ _ _ _

____'We need to find her,' said Dumbledore. 'Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.'_ _ _ _

____'You'll be lucky!' said a cackling voice._ _ _ _

____It was Peeves the poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry._ _ _ _

____'What do you mean, Peeves?' said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he spotted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle._ _ _ _

____'Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be driving. She'd a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful,' he said happily. 'Poor thing,' he added unconvincingly._ _ _ _

____'Did she say who did it?' said Dumbledore quietly._ _ _ _

____'Oh, yes, Professorhead,' said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. 'He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see.' Peeves flipped over, and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. 'Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black.'_ _ _ _


	24. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

(POA 122-123)

‘Any sign of him, Professor?’ asked Percy in a whisper.

'No. All well here?’

'Everything under control, sir.’

'Good. There’s no point in moving them all now. I’ve found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You’ll be able to move them back in tomorrow.’

'And the Fat Lady, sir?’

'Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She’s still very distressed, but once she’s calmed down, I’ll have Mr Filch restore her.’

Harry heard the door of the Hall crack open again, and more footsteps.

'Headmaster.’ It was Professor Black. Harry kept quite still, listening hard. 'I’ve swept the dungeons and cannot find him anywhere. Filch took the third floor and he’s nowhere to be found there, either.’

'What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney’s room? The Owlery?’

'He’s not hung around, Headmaster.’

'Very well, Regulus. I didn’t expect your brother to linger.’

'How do you think he managed to get in and out undetected, Professor?’ asked Black.

Harry raised his head very slightly off his arms to free his other ear.

'I have ideas, Regulus, each as unlikely as the next, I’m afraid.’

Harry opened his eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore’s back was to him, but he could see Percy’s face, rapt with attention, and Black’s profile, which looked angry.

'I don’t suppose you think _he _helped do you?’ said Black. Harry had no idea who he might be, but clearly Dumbledore did.__

__'No Regulus, no more than I suspect you, or the young Mr Weasley here,’ the Headmaster said firmly. 'I must go down to the Dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete.’_ _

__'Didn’t they want to help, sir?’ said Percy._ _

__'Oh yes,’ said Dumbledore coldly. 'But I’m afraid no Dementors will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster.’_ _

__Percy looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the Hall, walking quickly and quietly. Black stood for a moment, watching the Headmaster with a look of contemplation on his face, then he, too, left._ _

__Harry glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. Both of them had their eyes open, too, reflecting the starry ceiling._ _

__'What was that all about?’ Ron mouthed._ _

__*_ _

__(POA 125-126)_ _

__*_ _

__The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team were training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch. At the end of their final training session before Saturday’s match, Oliver Wood have his team a pep talk._ _

__'I know the conditions aren’t great for playing Quidditch, but I also know we’ve got the best bloody team at Hogwarts! Slytherin have one advantage over us: their size. With bulk like theirs, they don’t have to worry so much about being buffered around by the wind._ _

__'But in every other corner we have them beat. Angelica, Alicia, Katie,’ - there were whistles from Fred and George - 'you three are a great team out there, you always know where the others are, pass well and can tell where the wind will take the quaffle. Just make sure you get it past Bletchley as much as you can._ _

__'Fred and George; you two are always there when your team needs you. With you as beaters no one needs to worry about bludgers coming for them. Remember though, Slytherin are an aggressive team and Derrick and Bole won’t go easy on us, so don’t go easy on them!’_ _

__'You can count on us, Oliver,’ said Fred._ _

__'Yeah,’ agreed George, 'we’ll give 'em as good as we get.’_ _

__'No, George,’ argued Fred. 'Better!’ Oliver beamed proudly._ _

__'And Harry. Best seeker we’ve had some Charlie Weasley himself. It's still a shame he went after them dragons, he’d be playing for England next year if he’d gone professional! Remember we want to end at least 300 points ahead of Slytherin on Saturday. It's important we get a good head start on Hufflepuff.’_ _

__The team cheered, knowing how much this year’s cup meant for Oliver. They’d win it for Gryffindor and for him._ _

__*_ _

__The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit._ _

__Oliver Wood kept hurrying up to Harry between classes and giving him tips. The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that Harry suddenly realised he was ten minutes late for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and set off at a run with Wood shouting after him, 'Malfoy doesn’t look for the snitch, he watches the seeker - a few Wronski Feints will put him off the scent!’_ _

__Harry skidded to a halt outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open and dashed inside._ _

__'Sorry I’m late, Professor Lupin, I -’_ _

__But it wasn’t Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher’s desk; it was Black._ _

__'How kind of you to join us, Mr Potter, however I think you’ll find the lesson began ten minutes ago. Professor Lupin may tolerate tardiness, however, as you well know, I do not. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Please take your seat.’_ _

__But Harry didn’t move._ _

__'Where’s Professor Lupin?’ he said._ _

__'Not that it is any of your business, but Professor Lupin is feeling a little under the weather today. I assure you he will be right as rain soon enough, but for today’s class you have me. Now please take your seat before I have to take off any more points.’_ _

__Harry reluctantly sat down. Black looked around at the class._ _

__'Carry on with your reading, please,’ he said. 'Chapter 5, Mr Potter, the one about Hinkypunks, if you please. Once you have finished reading I have a comprehension sheet for you to fill out.’_ _

__Harry got out his book and began to read in silence with the rest of the class. It was the quietest and most boring Defence Against the Dark Arts class of the year, by some considerable margin. After what seemed to be an eternity the bell finally rang and Black collected their work before dismissing them._ _

__*_ _

__Harry woke extremely early next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him, then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright - Peeves the poltergeist had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear._ _

__'What did you do that for?' said Harry furiously.  
Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard and zoomed backwards out of the room, cackling._ _

__Harry fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now he was awake, to ignore the sounds of thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In a few hours he would be out on the Quidditch pitch, battling through that gale. Finally he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand and walked quietly out of the dormitory._ _

__As Harry opened the door, something brushed against his leg. He bent down just in time to grab Crookshanks by the end of his bushy tail, and drag him outside._ _

__'You know, I reckon Ron was right about you,' Harry told Crookshanks suspiciously. 'There are plenty of mice around this place, go and chase them. Go on,' he added, nudging Crookshanks down the spiral staircase with his foot, 'leave Scabbers alone.'_ _

__The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Harry knew better than to think the match would be cancelled. Quidditch matches weren’t called off for trifles such as thunderstorms. Nevertheless, he was starting to feel very apprehensive, with the extra lessons Black had been giving to Malfoy, who knew how good he’d be this year._ _

__Harry whiled away the hours until dawn in front of the fire, getting up every now and then to stop Crookshanks sneaking up the boys' staircase again. At long last Harry thought it must be time for breakfast, so he headed through the portrait hole alone._ _

__'Stand and fight, you mangy cur!' yelled Sir Cadogan._ _

__'Oh, shut up,' Harry yawned._ _

__He revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and by the time he'd started on the toast, the rest of the team had turned up._ _

__'It's going to be a tough one,' said Wood, who wasn't eating anything._ _

__'Stop worrying, Oliver,' said Alicia soothingly, 'we don't mind a bit of rain.'_ _

__But it was Considerably more than a bit of rain. Such as the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns towards the Quidditch pitch, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went. Just before he entered the changing room, Harry saw Crabbe and Goyle laughing and pointing at him from under an enormous umbrella on their way to the stadium._ _

__The team changed into their scarlet robes and waited for Wood’s usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn’t come. Instead he settled for a steely look of determination and a simple, 'Let’s do this.’_ _

__The wind was so strong that they staggered sideways as they walked out onto the pitch. If the crowd was cheering they couldn’t hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. Rain was splattering over Harry’s glasses. How on earth was he going to see the Snitch in this?_ _

__The Slytherins were approaching from the opposite side of the pitch, wearing green and silver robes. The captains walked up to each other and both seemed to be trying their utmost to crush the other’s hand. Harry saw Madam Hooch’s mouth form the words, 'Mount your brooms.’ He pulled his right foot out of the mud with a squelch and swung it over his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant - they were off._ _

__Harry rose fast, but his Nimbus was swerving slightly with the wind. He held it as steadily as he could and turned, squinting into the rain._ _

__Within five minutes Harry was soaked to the skin and frozen, hardly able to see his team-mates, let alone the tiny Snitch. He did notice a lone figure high above the pitch with him. Malfoy was also flying above the action, keeping his eye out for that elusive Snitch. Clearly his lessons were paying off._ _

__He lost track of time. It was getting harder and harder to hold his broom straight. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. Twice Harry nearly hit another player, without knowing whether it was a team-mate or opponent; everyone was now so wet, and the rain so thick, he could hardly tell them apart…_ _

__With the first flash if lightning came the sound of Madame Hooch’s whistle; Harry could see the outline of Wood through the thick rain, gesturing him to ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud._ _

__'I called for time out!’ Wood roared at his team. 'Come on, under here -’_ _

__They huddled at the edge of the pitch under a large umbrella; Harry took off his glasses and wiped them hurriedly on his robes._ _

__'What’s the score?’_ _

__'We’re seventy points up,’ said Wood, 'but unless we get the Snitch soon, we’ll be playing into the night.’_ _

__'I’ve got no chance with these on,’ Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses._ _

__At that very moment, Hermione appeared at his shoulder; she was holding her cloak over her head and was, inexplicably, beaming._ _

__'I’ve had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!’_ _

__He handed than to her and, as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, 'Impervius!’_ _

__'There!’ she said, handing them back to Harry. 'They’ll repel water!’_ _

__Wood looked as though he could have kissed her._ _

__'Brilliant!’ he called hoarsely after her, as she disappeared into the crowd. 'OK, team, let’s go for it!’_ _

__Hermione’s spell had done the trick. Harry was still numb with cold, still wetter than he’d ever been in his life, but he could see. Full of fresh determination, he urged his broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch._ _

__'How are we meant to carry on in this?’ asked a voice at his shoulder. It was Malfoy. 'We’ll be dead before we can find the Snitch!’_ _

__There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. Harry had to admit this was getting more and more dangerous._ _

__'You’re right, Malfoy,’ Harry said. 'I’d better go and look for the Snitch before we get struck by lightning!’_ _

__He turned, intending to get away from Malfoy and find any glimpse of the Snitch that might put an end to this match, but in that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry saw something that distracted him completely: the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost empty row of seats._ _

__Harry’s numb hands slipped on the broom handle and his Nimbus dropped a few feet. Shaking his sodden fringe or of his eyes, he squinted back into the stands. The dog had vanished._ _

__Malfoy was still above him, but the rain was falling more heavily than ever and the wind was picking up._ _

__And then something odd happened. An eerie silence was falling over the stadium. The wind, though remaining strong, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Harry had suddenly gone deaf - what was going on ..?_ _

__And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him, inside him, just as he became aware of something moving on the pitch below ..._ _

__Before he'd had time to think, Harry looked down._ _

__At least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing below. It was as though freezing water was riding in his chest, cutting at his insides. And then he heard it again ... someone was screaming, screaming inside his head ... a woman ..._ _

___'Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!'_ _ _

___'Stand aside, you silly girl ... stand aside, now ...'_ _ _

___'Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead -'__ _

____Numbing, swirling white must was filling Harry's brain ... What was he doing? Why was he flying? He needed to help her ... she was going to die ... she was going to be murdered ..._ _ _ _

____He was talking, falling through the icy mist._ _ _ _

_____'Not Harry! Please ... have mercy ... have mercy ...'__ _ _ _

______A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming ... Harry felt something grab a hold of his arm, and then he knew no more._ _ _ _ _ _

______*_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Lucky the ground was so soft.'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Lucky Malfoy helped slow his fall.'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'I thought he was dead for sure.'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'But he didn't even break his glasses.'_ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was that every inch of him was aching as though it had been beaten._ _ _ _ _ _

______'That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life.'_ _ _ _ _ _

______Scariest ... the scariest thing ... hooded black figures ... cold ... screaming ..._ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around his bed. Ron, Hermione and Neville were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool._ _ _ _ _ _

______'Harry!' said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath the mud. 'How're you feeling?'_ _ _ _ _ _

______It was as though Harry's memory was on fast forward. The lightning ... the Grim ... the Dementors ..._ _ _ _ _ _

______'What happened?' he said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped._ _ _ _ _ _

______'You fell off,' said Fred. 'Must've been almost a hundred feet!'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Malfoy caught hold of you as you fell, but you still hit the ground hard,' said George._ _ _ _ _ _

______'We thought you'd died,' said Alicia, who was shaking._ _ _ _ _ _

______Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot._ _ _ _ _ _

______'But the match,' said Harry. 'What happened? Are we having a replay?'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Better,' said Wood joyfully. 'As neither you nor Malfoy caught the Snitch, the match has been paused. We play again next week and we keep the points from today. We'll be going in to it a hundred points ahead!'_ _ _ _ _ _

______So there was a silver lining after all, they hadn't lost the match._ _ _ _ _ _

______After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave Harry in peace._ _ _ _ _ _

______'We'll come to see you later,' Fred told him._ _ _ _ _ _

______'Get yourself fighting fit for next weekend,' said Wood._ _ _ _ _ _

______The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron, Hermione and Neville moved nearer to Harry's bed._ _ _ _ _ _

______'Dumbledore was really angry,' Hermione said in a quaking voice. 'I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the pitch as you fell, waved his wand to slow you down even more before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot some stuff at them. They left the stadium straight away ... he was future they'd come into the grounds, we heard him -'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Then he magicked you onto a stretcher,' said Ron. 'And walked up to the school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were ...'_ _ _ _ _ _

______His voice faded away, but Harry hardly noticed. He was thinking about what the Dementors had done to him ... about the screaming voice. He looked up and saw his friends looking at him so anxiously that he quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say._ _ _ _ _ _

______'Did someone get my Nimbus.'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'Oh, Harry,' said Neville, looking like he might burst into tears. 'The wind took it away ... and .... and it ...'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'It hit the Whomping Willow,' Hermione finished sadly._ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry's insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree which stood alone in the middle of the grounds._ _ _ _ _ _

______'And?' he said, dreading the answer._ _ _ _ _ _

______'Well, you know the Whomping Willow,' said Ron. 'It - it doesn't like being hit.'_ _ _ _ _ _

______'It hit back,' sobbed Neville._ _ _ _ _ _

______'Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came round,' said Hermione in a small voice._ _ _ _ _ _

______Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick._ _ _ _ _ _


	25. The Rematch

Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. He didn't argue or complain, but he wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of his Nimbus Two Thousand. He knew he was being stupid, knew that the Nimbus was well beyond repair, but Harry couldn't help it; he felt as though he'd lost one of his best friends. He had no idea what he was going to ride next Saturday for the rematch.

He had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering him up. Hagrid sent him a bunch of earwiggy flowers that looked like yellow cabbages and Ginny Weasley, blushing furiously, turned up with a 'get well' card she had made herself, which sang shrilly unless Harry kept it shut under his bowl of fruit.

The Gryffindor team visited again, and Wood brought the news that Harry could use one of the old Cleansweep Sevens that Madam Hooch used for broomstick training on Saturday. It wasn't as fast or smooth as Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand, but at least he could fly. He'd just have to make sure he was closer to the Snitch than Malfoy when he made his move.

Ron and Hermione only left Harry's bedside at night. But nothing anyone said or did could make Harry feel any better, because they only knew half of what was troubling him.

He hadn't told anyone about the Grim, not even Ron and Hermione, because he knew Ron would panic and Hermione would scoff. The fact remained, however, that it had now appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near-fatal accidents; the first time, he had nearly been run over by the Knight Bus; the second, fallen nearly a hundred feet from his broomstick. Was the Grim going to haunt him until he actually died? Was he going to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for the beast?

And then there were the Dementors. Harry felt sick and humiliated every time he thought of them. Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one ... no one else heard echoes in their head of their dying parents.

For Harry knew who that screaming voice belonged to now. He had heard her words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the hospital wing while he lay awake, staring at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling. When the Dementors approached him, he heard the last moments of his mother's life, her attempts for protect him, Harry, from Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort's laughter before he murdered her ... Harry dozed fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake only to dwell again on the sound of his mother's voice.

*

Monday morning he woke to find someone sitting at his bedside. It was Malfoy.

'Ah,' Malfoy said, 'you're awake. How are you feeling?'

'Better,' said Harry. 'I hear you saved me as I fell. Thanks.' Malfoy looked embarrassedly to the floor. 

'It was the Dementors, wasn't it? I felt them too.'

'You didn't faint though, did you?'

'I - er - I heard my father's voice, Harry. The great thing about magic is it can heal any physical wounds. It doesn't help up here though,' Malfoy said, tapping the side of his head.

Harry looked at Malfoy with a sudden understanding. He felt a sorrow and a kinship. He was about to offer an end to their rivalry when Malfoy stood up.

'Well,' he said walking to the door, 'I'm glad you're feeling better. Good luck on Saturday. You'll need it on a Cleansweep!' And with that he left the hospital wing, leaving Harry more confused than ever.

*

It was a relief to be back to the noise and bustle of the main school that morning, where he was forced to think of other things.

Professor Lupin was back at work, and it certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats.

'I have to say class, I am very impressed with your comprehensive understanding of Hinkypunks after Professor Black kindly covered for me last week,' he said at the start of class. 'However, I always think that practical lessons are where we learn the most.'

With that he uncovered a glass box at the front of the classroom which contained a little one-legged Hinkypunks that seemed to be made of wisps of smoke.

'As you know he may look frail and harmless, but he does love to lure travellers into bogs. He hops ahead, lantern hanging from his hand - people follow the light - then -'

The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching Boise against the glass.

When the bell rang at the end of class, everyone gathered up their things and headed to the door, Harry among them, but -

'Wait a moment, Harry,' Lupin called, 'I'd like a word.'

Harry doubled back and watch Lupin re-covering the Hinkypunk's box with a cloth.

'I heard about the match,' said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to like books into his briefcase, 'and I'm sorry to hear about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?'

'No,' said Harry. 'The tree smashed it to bits.'

Lupin sighed.

'They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.'

'Did you hear about the Dementors, too?' said Harry with difficulty.

Lupin looked at him quickly.

'Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have ever seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time ... furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds ... I suppose they were the reason you fell?'

'Yes,' said Harry. He hesitated, and then the question he had to ask burst from him before he could stop himself. 'Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just -?'

'It has nothing to do with weakness,' said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read Harry's mind. 'The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have.'

A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's grey hairs and the lines on his young face.

'Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and Evey good feeling, every happy memory, will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself - soulless and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that has happened to you is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to be ashamed of.

'When they get near me -' Harry stared at Lupin's desk, his throat tight, 'I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum.'

Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm as though he had made to grip Harry's should, but thought better of it.

'And Malfoy told me he hears his dad, but I always thought they got on.'

'Outward looks can be deceiving, Harry. But it doesn't do well to pry into the private lives of others. Having said that, if Draco is sharing this with you, perhaps you would do well to reach out to him as a friend. I don't think he really has anyone he can confide in in his own house.'

There was a moment's silence as Harry thought this over; then -

'Why did they have to come to the match?' said Harry bitterly.

'They're getting hungry,' said Lupin coolly, shutting his briefcase with a snap. 'Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up ... I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch pitch. All the excitement ... emotions running high ... it was their idea of a feast.'

'Azkaban must be terrible,' Harry muttered. Lupin nodded grimly.

'The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks.'

'But Sirius Black escaped from them,' Harry said slowly. 'He got away ...'

Lupin's briefcase slipped front the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it.

'Yes,' he said, straightening up. 'Sirius must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible ... Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long ...'

'You made that Dementor on the train back off,' said Harry suddenly.

'There are - certain defences one can use,' said Lupin. 'But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes too resist.'

'What defences?' said Harry at once. 'Can you teach me?'

'I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harry - quite the contrary ...'

'But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them -'

Lupin looked into Harry's determined face, hesitated, then said, 'Well ... all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term in afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.'

'But our rematch is on Saturday!' said Harry.

Lupin sighed, looked into Harry's eyes and chuckled. 'You know Harry, you look exactly like you father, except for your eyes. Yes, you have your mother's eyes. But that's not the only thing you inherited from her. You have her determination too. If she wanted something, she'd get it. Your father used to call it headstrong bloody-mindedness, but she always got her way ... Very well, I'll see what I can do, but a week I fear is not enough time to learn such a complex spell.'

*

After classes Harry headed for the Quidditch pitch to train on the borrowed Cleansweep Seven. Unlike the Nimbus Two Thousand it was a clunky broomstick, it juttered every time Harry tried to change direction, and it did not reach the speeds Harry was used to. But it would have to do. Harry was going to spend as much free time as possible getting used to it so they could beat Slytherin on Saturday. He was still the youngest seeker in a century, after all.

As he was flying around he saw a figure waving at him on the ground below. Harry turned his broomstick to the ground and landed, slightly rougher than he would normally. Neville was there to greet him.

'Hi, Harry,' he said. 'I know you're practising for the game, but Professor Lupin wanted to see you right away.' He must want to start the Anti-Dementor lessons, thought Harry. He thanked Neville and raced to get changed. Then he headed up to Lupin's office and knocked.

'Enter,' said Lupin. Harry walked into Lupin's office to find him with a large packing case on his desk. 'Ah, perfect timing Harry, let's head to Professor Binn's classroom, it'll be most suitable for what we're planning tonight.'

'What's in here?' Harry asked as they carried the packing case along the corridor.

'Another Boggart. Neville and I have been practising with it after he struggled with the Riddikulus curse at the start of the year. He's almost got the hang of it now. But it's also the nearest thing we'll get to a real Dementor.'

'OK,' said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found a good substitute for a real Dementor.

They got to the History of Magic classroom and lifted the case onto Professor Binn's desk.

'So ...' Professor Lupin had taken out his own wand and indicated that Harry should do the same. 'The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry - well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm.

(POA 176-177)

'Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand -'

'I do!' said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. 'I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up again on Saturday? I can't fall off again. We've got to win!'

'All right then ...' said Lupin. 'You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on ... That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough ...'

Harry thought hard, and decided his feelings when Gryffindor won the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy. He gripped his wand tightly again, and took up his position in the middle of the classroom.

'Ready?' said Lupin.

'Ready,' said Harry, trying hard to fill his head with happy thoughts about Gryffindor winning, and not dark thoughts about what was going to happen when the box opened.

'Go!' said Lupin, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forwards, drawing it's rattly breath; one rotting hand was extending towards Harry -

'Expecto patronum!' Harry yelled. 'Expecto patronum! Expecto pat-'

White fog obscured his senses ... big, blurred shapes were moving around him ... then came a new voice, a man's voice, shouting, panicking -

'Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -'

The sound of someone stumbling from a room - a door bursting open - a cackle of high pitched laughter -

'Harry! Harry ... wake up ...'

Lupin was tapping Harry hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harry understood why he was lying on a dusty classroom floor.

'I heard my dad,' Harry mumbled. 'That's the first time I've ever heard him - he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it ...'

Harry suddenly realised that there were tears in his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face low as possible, so that Lupin couldn't see.

'You heard James?' said Lupin, in a strange voice.

'Yeah ...' Face dry, Harry looked up. 'You knew my parents well, didn't you?'

'Yes, we were very close from our school days up until-' Remus stopped, unable to complete the sentence. 'Listen, Harry - perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced ... I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this ...'

'No!' said Harry. He got up again. 'I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is ... hang on ...'

He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory ... one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus ...

The moment when he first found out he was a wizard, and would be leaving the Dursleys for Hogwarts! If that wasn't a happy memory, he didn't know what was ... concentrating very hard on how he had felt when he realised he'd be leaving Privet Drive, Harry got to his feet and faced the packing case once more.

'Ready?' said Lupin, who looked as though he was doing this against his better judgement. 'Concentrating hard? All right - go!'

He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark -

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!' Harry bellowed. 'EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!'

The screaming inside Harry's head had started again - except this time, it sounded as though it was coming through a badly tuned radio. Softer and louder and softer again ... and he could still see the Dementor ... it had halted ... and then a huge silvery shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand, to hover between him and the Dementor, and though Harry's legs felt like water, he was still on his feet ... though for how much longer, he wasn't sure ...

'Riddikulus!' roared Lupin, springing forwards.

There was a loud crack, and Harry's cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Dementor; he sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if he'd just run a mile, his legs shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again.

'Excellent!' Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!'

'Can we have another go? Just one more go?'

'Not now,' said Lupin firmly. 'You've had enough for one night. Here -'

He handed Harry a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate.

'Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. We'll practise again the same time tomorrow. If you keep up at this pace, you might well be prepared come Saturday, well done.'

Harry took a bite of the chocolate and watched Lupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. A thought had just occurred to him.

'Professor Lupin?' he said. 'If you knew my parents, you must've known Sirius Black as well.'

Lupin turned very quickly.

'What gives you that idea?'

'Noyhing - I mean, I just knew that him and my dad were friends at Hogwarts, too ...'

Lupin's face relaxed.

'Yes, I knew him.' he said shortly. 'Or I thought I did. You'd better get off, Harry, it's getting late.'

Harry left the classroom, walked along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armor and sank down to finish his chocolate, wishing he hadn't mentioned Sirius Black, as Lupin was obviously not keen on the subject. Then Harry's thoughts wandered back to his mother and father.

He felt drained and strangely empty, even though he was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear his parents' last moments replayed inside his head, these were the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he'd never be able to produce a proper Patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again ...

'They're dead,' he told himself sternly. 'They're dead, and listening to echoes of them won't bring them back. You'd better get a grip on yourself if you want that Quidditch Cup.'

He stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into his mouth and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

*

For the rest of the week Harry trained with the Quidditch team for an hour after dinner, before making his way to the History of Magic classroom to fight the Dementor. He was getting used to the Cleansweep Seven, but would definitely be looking for a new broom after Saturday's match, he couldn't go up against Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw on this.

His Patronus was becoming more opaque too. Lupin was very impressed with how quickly Harry had picked it up, though he could still hear his parents and felt clammy whenever the Boggart was released.

On the Friday night, Harry convinced Wood that his flying was as good as it would ever be on the Cleansweep Seven, and that what he really needed was to practice repelling Dementors. And so he headed to Lupin's office early to see if he could get an extra hour in to practise.

He knocked on the door, but heard no reply, so he tried the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. He knocked again and could hear voices and movement inside. He opened the door and saw Neville standing in front of the packing case, his grandmother writhing on the floor, just as she had been in Lupin's first lesson. Harry stared in horror and was reminded of how Tom Riddle had cursed Professor Black at the end of the previous school year. Her back was arching and then-

'RIDDIKULUS!' Neville shouted. There was a crack and his grandmother started breakdancing. 'RIDDIKULUS,!' he said again, and the Boggart vanished into smoke.

'Very good, Neville,' Lupin said, applauding. He turned around as if he had finally felt Harry's presence. His eyes narrowed in frustration and disappointment. 'Harry ...'

'I'm sorry Professor, I didn't realise ...'

'It's not me you should be apologising to,' Lupin said, indicating to Neville.

'Sorry Neville,' Harry said in embarrassment. 'Well done on defeating the Boggart though.'

'Thanks, Harry,' said Neville, shyly.

'Right,' said Lupin. 'Well I think you boys had better head back to Gryffindor Tower. Neville, you've done extremely well here, I know that defeating the Boggart has been a traumatic experience, but you have finally excelled, you should be very proud. Harry, because Neville has gotten rid of the Boggart, we cannot go ahead with your Patronus lesson tonight, which I think should be more than enough punishment for so rudely barging in. There's more of your father in you than I realised.'

'But what about the game?' Harry said.

'If the Dementors do return tomorrow I can assure you that all the teachers will be on our guard. Dumbledore, myself, Professor McGonagall ... we'll all be there. Now go and rest, ready for your match.'

Harry and Neville walked back for a couple of minutes in silence.

'Sorry, again, Neville,' said Harry eventually. 'I didn't realise you were in there.'

''S'alright, Harry,' Neville sniffed.

'If you ever want to talk about it, you can do, we are friends after all.'

'Thanks, Harry, but I'd rather not ... not yet anyway.'

The continued in silence until they got to the Common Room. Harry took a seat by the fire where Ron and Hermione were sat and Neville headed up to the dormitory.

'Night,' he said as he walked up the spiral staircase.

'You're back early,' said Ron.

'Yeah, Neville beat the Boggart I was using as a Dementor,' Harry said.

'No wonder he looks worn out.'

*

Saturday morning came, and though not quite as blustery as the previous weekend, there was still prominent wind and rain. The whole school had turned up again, a game had never been paused before.

Though Gryffindor started with a strong lead, the Slytherin team began to claw back some points and soon they were within ten points of each other. Harry had to find the Snitch quick.

That was when he saw the Dementors. Two of them, tall, black and hooded looking up at him. Harry didn't stop to think. Plunging a hand down the neck of his robes, he whipped out his wand and remembering everything Lupin had taught over the last week, roared over the billowing wind, 'Expecto patronum!'

Something silver white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand. He knew it had hit directly at the Dementors but didn't pause to watch.

He turned his attention back to the game and spied the Snitch on the other side of the pitch, next to the Slytherin goal posts. If he went for it now Malfoy would be there in a flash on his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

So Harry waited. He followed the Snitch dancing around the stands ... It was getting closer and closer to him ... any second now he'd be able to make a dash for it.

From the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy suddenly speed towards the Snitch - he must have seen Harry watching it. Harry leant forward on his Cleansweep Seven, rain beating down on him. The Snitch was closer to him, but Malfoy had the faster broom.

He urged the Cleansweep Seven forward and reached out with his arm. He was hit in the back by a bludger he felt a crack on his left shoulder as it gave way. His hand closed as he tumbled forward. Despite the buffering wind, and a limp arm, he'd managed to stay upright. And in his right hand, he held the Golden Snitch aloft.

Over the roaring winds he could hear the crowd cheering. He landed and his teammates joined him and lifted him into the air.

'That's my boy!' Wood kept yelling. A gaggle of Gryffindor supporters were sprinting onto the pitch, Ron in the lead.

'Nice one, Harry!' Ron shouted.

'Way to go, Harry!' hollered Neville.

'That was quite some Patronus,' said a voice in Harry's ear.

Harry turned around to see Professor Lupin, who looked both shaken and pleased.

'The Dementors didn't effect me at all!' Harry said excitedly. He winced as his arm continued to pain him. 'Just the Bludger ...'

'Yes, I think a trip to Madam Pomfrey is in order,' said Professor Lupin. 'As for the Dementors, I think you'd better come take a look.'

He led Harry out of the crowd until they were able to see the edge of the pitch.

'You gave the boys, quite a fright,' said Lupin.

Harry stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Crabbe and Goyle, struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes.

Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall.

'An unworthy trick!' she was shouting. 'A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for both of you and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!'

If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Ron, who had fought his way through to Harry's side, doubled up with laughter as they watched Crabbe and Goyle fighting to extricate themselves from the robes.

'Harry!,' said Fred, fighting his way over. 'Get your arm fixed quick, we're going to have a party in the common room, right now!'

*


	26. Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff

Madam Pomfrey reset Harry's arm (much quicker than when he'd had to stay overnight last year after Lockhart had vanished his bones) and within half an hour he was making his way through the portrait hole. Upon his arrival the common room erupted into wild cheers.

'Not the three hundred point lead we wanted,' Wood was saying, 'but all things considered a job well done! Another cracking catch, Harry!'

'You were amazing out there, Harry,' Lee Jordan was saying. 'The way you knocked down those cheating Slytherins pretending to be Dementors ... just incredible!'

The festivities lasted well into the morning, even Percy stayed up after midnight. But even though they had won they couldn't afford to cut it so close next time. Wood continued with his manic energy and worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. He was even more determined after Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their match. Harry saw no hint of a Dementor within the grounds. Dumbledore's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.

(POA 141-159)

'So what are you saying?' said Ron, looking very tense. 'You want to - to kill Black or something?'

'Don't be silly,' said Hermione in a panicky voice. 'Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?'

Again, Harry didn't answer. He didn't know what he wanted to do. All he knew was that the idea of doing nothing, while Black was at liberty, was almost more than he could stand.

'Malfoy knows,' he said abruptly. 'Remember what he said to me in Potions? "If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself ... I'd want revenge." Why wouldn't he tell me the full story?'

'Harry, I know you think that Malfoy's a saint deep down, but he's a Slytherin and his dad was a Death Eater,' said Ron. 'Sirius Black's a madman. All they found of Pettigrew was a single finger after Black was finished with him.'

'I knew they were friends, Sirius Black and my dad. I'm just happy to know that my dad was a good man. But the fact that he betrayed them ...'

'Harry, please,' said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, 'please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what he wants ... oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into Sirius Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for him!'

'I'll never know what they'd have wanted because, thanks to Sirius Black, I've never spoken to them,' Harry said shortly.

There was a silence, in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously, flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered.

'Look,' said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, 'it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's - let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!'

'No!' said Hermione quickly. 'Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron -'

'Yeah, let's go,' said Harry, sitting up, 'and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Sirius Black when he told me all about my parents!'

Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind.

'Or we could have a game of chess,' he said hastily, 'or Gobstones. Percy left a set -'

'No, let's vist Hagrid,' said Harry firmly.

So they got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole ('Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied mongrels!'), down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.

They mad their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.

Ron knocked and a moment later Hagrid's face appeared at the door.

'What're you three doin' 'ere?' Hagrid said. 'You know you're no' meant ter be out a' night, 'Arry. Well yeh may as well come in now you're 'ere.' Hagrid moved into his cabin, holding the door open wide. 'Le' me put the kettle on.'

As they shuffled into his home, Harry realised that his anger had disappated on the walk over. Hagrid offered them all one of his infamous rock cakes, which they each took out of politeness.

'Looking forward to Christmas you three? It's gonna be a small affair this year.'

'Mmhm,' mumbled Harry. Ron and Hermione were watching him with concern.

Hagrid looked around and brought four giant mugs over.

'Wha's gotten into you three then, eh? Yeh come over ter see me, not tha' I'm not grateful mind, it's been a while, bu' then yeh don't say anythin'.'

Harry took a deep breath as Hagrid brought a flowery teapot over and began to pour.

'I know Sirius Black and my dad were best friends and that Sirius betrayed my parents to Voldemort,' he said. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

Hagrid dropped the rock cake he'd just picked up, and it landed with a thump. 'Ah,' he said. 'Well the thing is, Dumbledore wasn't sure it'd be righ' ter tell yeh. You've got enough to worry abou' as it is. But I can see tha' you would be upse' to find tha' ou'.'

It made sense, but Harry wasn't a baby who needed to be mollycoddled.

'The thing is, Sirius Black is a dangerous man, Harry. We di'n't want it to be a burden. Especially with all these Dementors around. I tell you, every time I go to the Three Broomsticks I 'ave to pass 'em. It's like being back at Azkaban.'

Hagrid fell silent, gulping his tea. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched him breathlessly. They had never heard him talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before. After a brief pause, Hermione said timidly, 'Is it awful in there, Hagrid?'

'Yeh've no idea,' said Hagrid quietly. 'Never been anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind ... the day I got expelled from Hogwarts ... day me Dad died ... day I had ter let Norbert go ...'

His eyes filled with tears. Norbert was the baby dragon Hagrid had once won in a game of cards.

'Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep ... when they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go.'

'But you were innocent!' said Hermione.

Hagrid snorted.

'Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck in there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don't give a damn who's guilty an' who's not.'

Hagrid went quiet for a moment, then sighed. 'We overfed the Flobberworms, think I'm going to try something a bi' more int'resting like Bowtruckles next term, wha' do yeh reckon?'

'Hagrid,' said Ron. 'Anything's better than Flobberworms!'

*

The trip to Hagrid's had made Harry feel much better. He had entered into the Christmas spirit, especially as the usual magnificent decorations were put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armour, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.

(POA 165-166)

'I bet it was Dumbledore,' said Ron, now walking round and round the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. 'He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously ...'

'That was my dad's, though,' said Harry. 'Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't be spending hundreds of Galleons on me. He can't go giving students stuff like this -'

'That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!' said Ron. 'In case some git like Malfoy said it was favouritism.'

'Some git who saved my life?' said Harry. 'He's not that as bad as you make out, Ron.'

'He's a Slytherin, that's enough for me,' said Ron matter-of-factly. 'A Slytherin who's going to be sick as a pig when he sees this beautiful, international standard broomstick! Maybe it was Lupin!'

'What?' said Harry, beginning to laugh. 'Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes.'

'Yeah, but he likes you,' said Ron. 'And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you -'

'What d'you mean, he was away?' said Harry. 'He was ill when I was playing in that match.'

'Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing,' said Ron. 'You were the only one there that whole weekend.'

Harry frowned at Ron.

'I can't see Lupin affording something like this.'

(POA 166-168)

At lunchtime they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the house tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick were there, along with Hagrid and Filch, the caretaker, who was wearing a very old and rather mouldy-looking tail coat. There were only three other students: two extremely nervous-looking first-year and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth-year.

'Merry Christmas!' said Dumbledore, as Harry, Ron and Hermione approached the table. As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the house tables ... Sit down, sit down!

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the end of the table, next to Hagrid.

'Crackers!' said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver one to Professor Flitwick, who took it and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart and Flitwick ended up on the floor. The cracker had revealed a lime green bowler hat, much like the one Cornelius Fudge often wore. Dumbledore swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

Harry got a purple Fez in his cracker whilst Hermione got a three foot tall stovepipe and Ron got an Easter Bonnet, which no one would swap with him.

'Tuck in!' Dumbledore advised the table, beaming around.

As Harry was helping himself to roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding towards them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honour of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversize dragonfly.

'Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!' said Dumbledore, standing up.

'I have been crystal-gazing, Headmaster,' said Professor Trelawney, in her mistiest, most faraway voice, 'and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you forgive my lateness ...'

'Certainly, certainly,' said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. 'Let me draw you up a chair -'

And he did indeed draw a chair in mid-air with his wand, which revolved around for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Flitwick and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.

'I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!'

'We'll risk it, Sybill,' said Professor McGonagall impatiently. 'Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold.'

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

'Tripe, Sybill?'

Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, 'But where is dear Professor Lupin?'

'I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again,' said Dumbledore, indicating that everyone should start serving themselves. 'Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day.'

'But surely you already knew that, Sybill?' said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.

Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.

'Certainly I knew, Minerva,' she said quietly. 'But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous.'

'That explains a great deal,' said Professor McGonagall tartly.

Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.

'If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal-gaze for him -'

'Imagine that,' said Professor McGonagall drily.

'I doubt,' said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice that put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, 'that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Why our very own Professor Black is with him right now, he should be up and about in no time ... Derek, have you had any of these chocolates? They're excellent.'

(POA 170-173)

Wood sought Harry out on the night before term started.

'Had a good Christmas?' he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down and said, 'have you ordered a new broom yet. You're going to need something faster than the Cleansweep Seven for our games against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.'

'Not yet,' said Harry.

'What! You'd better get a move on!'

'He got a Firebolt for Christmas,' said Ronm

'A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A - a real Firebolt?'

'Dont get excited, Oliver,' said Harry gloomily. 'I haven't got it any more. It was confiscated.' and he explained all about how the Firebolt was being checked for jinxes

'Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?'

'Sirius Black,' Harry said wearily. 'He's supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it.

Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Wood said, 'But Black couldn't have bought a Firebolt! He's on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?'

'I know,' said Harry, 'but McGonagall still wants to strip it down -'

Wood went pale.

'I'll go talk to her, Harry,' he promised. 'I'll make her see reason ... a Firebolt ... a real Firebolt, on our team ... she wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do ... I'll make her see sense ... a Firebolt ...'

*

Lessons started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours in the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing, while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry that he had the shortest life-lines she had ever seen.

Lupin still looked ill in their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class of the term. 'What d'you reckon's the matter with him?' said Ron, as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner.

There was a loud and impatient 'tuh' from behind them. It was Hermione, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armur, repacking her bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.

'And what are you tutting at us for?' said Ron irritably 

'Nothing,' said Hermione in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

'Yes, you were,' said Ron. 'I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you -'

'Well, isn't it obvious?' said Hermione, with a look of maddening superiority.

'If you don't want to tell us, don't,,' snapped Ron.

'Fine,' said Hermione haughtily, and she marched off.

'She doesn't know,' said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. 'She's just trying to get us to talk to her again.

*

Slytherin narrowly beat Ravenclaw in the second week of term meaning Gryffindor would have to beat Hufflepuff by at least two hundred points to move into the lead.

Hermione was starting to show the strain when it came to her immense workload. Every night, without fail, she was too be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, Rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody, and snapped when she was interrupted.

'How's she doing it?' Ron muttered to Harry one evening, as Harry sat finishing a long essay on the properties of Dittany for Black, with a little assistance from Neville. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

'Doing what?'

'Getting to all her classes!' Ron said. 'I heard her talking to Professor Vector, the Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione can't've been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she'd never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them, either!'

'According to Hannah Abbot,' Neville added, 'she's always turned up on time to her Study of Ancient Runes class too.'

Harry didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione's impossible timetable at the moment; he really needed to complete Black's essay.

'So,' Harry said turning to Neville, 'Dittany can be used as a wand core?:

'Yes, but-'

Neville never got to finish his sentence as He was interrupted by Wood.

'Bad news, Harry. I've just seen Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She - er - got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you of, as long as you caught the Snitch on it first.' Wood shook his head in disbelief. 'Honestly, the way she was yelling at me ... you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it ...' He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice, '"As long as necessary, Wood" ... I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick ... you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got.'

'Yeah, maybe,' said Harry thoughtfully. He still missed his Nimbus Two Thousand, and couldn't bring himself to replace it, but now he'd had a Firebolt within his reach he was hoping against all hope that he'd get it back. They'd had it for a month now, surely they would have found something by now, surely he'd be getting back any day now.

Harry still had nine inches of his essay to write, so Ron went to join Ginny for a game of Chess, leaving Harry and Neville alone to concentrate.

'It's the Cruciatus Curse,' Neville said suddenly as Harry was nearing the bottom of the page. He raised his eyes from his essay and looked at Neville. 'Th-that's what's happening to my grandmother w-when I see a Boggart. When I was a kid my parents were put under the curse by a group led by a witch called Bellatrix Lestrange. She's Sirius Black's cousin and he was in Azkaban with her ... I suppose that's why it's heavy on my mind at the moment.'

Harry felt sick. He'd never thought about why Neville was living with his grandmother.

'She's strict, y'know,' Neville continued, 'but she raised me and has always been there. I know she wants what's best for me. So I don't think I could stand it if she ended up like them. They're alive, but they don't know who I am, or who they are for that matter.' He sniffed and looked to be on the verge of tears. 'Look, I've never told anyone this before, can we keep it a secret. I just thought you should know, after you saw ...'

He tailed off and took a deep breath.

'Yeah, yeah of course,' said Harry. 'Thanks for trusting me. You know, Neville, I hear my parents when the Dementors are nearby. I hear their final words just before Voldemort murders them. That's why they effect me so strongly, why I faint. That's why I was learning how to cat a Patronus last term. I've not even told Ron and Hermione the reason.'

Neville looked up, and smiled sympathetically at their shared trauma.

'And you don't have to worry about Black,' Harry continued. 'He's coming after me, not you!'

They laughed, Neville wiped his bloodshot eyes and they finished off Harry's essay.

*

January faded into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Hufflepuff was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He was now asking McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted.

'No, Potter, you can't have it back yet,' Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. 'We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now please stop badgering me.'

The following week Harry had all but given up hope of ever seeing his Firebolt again. He and Ron were returning from Hagrid's where he had tried to offer some support but even that didn't cheer Harry up. Outside the portrait hole they met Neville, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing entrance.

'I wrote them down,' Neville was saying, 'but I must've dropped them somewhere!'

'A likely take!' roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harry and Ron, 'Good even, my fine young yeomen! Come clap this loon in irons, he is trying to force entry to the chambers within!'

'Oh, shut up,' said Ron, as he and Harry came level with Neville.

'I've lost the passwords!' Neville told the miserably. I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!'

'Oddsbodikins,' Harry said to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swing forward to let them into the common room.

'Honestly, Neville,' said Ron, 'how can you be so smart at Herbology and Potions, but absolutely useless at things like this?'

Neville shrugged, 'I've no idea, but I've never been great with words and numbers. When it comes to practical stuff ...'

'Ron and I are looking for a new broomstick for me to fly, want to help us?' asked Harry.

The three of them poured over Which Broomstick with Ginny soon joining them, trying to decide on which to order when Professor McGonagall climbed through the portrait hole and into the common room. Everyone fell silent. It was very unusual for the Head of House to visit the common room.

Professor McGonagall surveyed the room until she found Harry and walked over to him. In her hand she was carrying the Firebolt, which she placed on the table in front of him.

'I've been looking for you everywhere. Here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all - you've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter ...'

Harry's jaw dropped, as did those of everyone in the common room. The Firebolt looked as magnificent as ever.

'I can have it back?' Harry said weakly. 'Seriously?'

'Seriously,' said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. 'I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter - do try to win tomorrow, Slytherin is currently leading, as Professor Black was kind enough to remind me last night.'

Wood, who had been sat on the other side of the common room, statue like with shock suddenly jumped up, punching the air and letting out a 'Whoop!' of joy. The common room erupted into cheers as Wood raced over to Harry and Professor McGonagall.

'I could kiss you, Professor,' he said, but settled for a punch on Harry's shoulder.

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harry and Ron had a clear view of Hermione, the only person who hadn't rushed over, bent over her work, and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harry and Ron approached her table and at last, she looked up.

(POA 185-188)

In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Hufflepuff match, so that he could have a go on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment (Brilliant! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?') so they set off for the Quidditch pitch together with Neville, who's had refused to take sides in the argument, but didn't want to disturb Hermione as she trawled though her mountain of homework. After his disastrous experience of flying in his first year at Hogwarts though, he was in no rush at all to try out the Firebolt.

Madam Hooch, who was still overseeing Gryffindor practices to keep an eye on Harry, was just as impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else has been. She took it into her hands before take-off and gave them the benefit of her professional opinion.

'Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail-end - you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated to handle, too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows - a pity they've stopped making them, I learnt to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was too ...'

She continued in this vein for some time, until Wood said, 'Er - Madam Hooch? Is it OK of Harry has the Firebolt back? Only we need to practise ...'

'Oh - right - here you are, then, Potter,' said Madam Hooch. 'I'll sit over here with Weasley and Longbottom ...' 

She left the pitch with Ron and Neville to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathered around Wood for his final instructions for tomorrow's match.

'We need to get a solid lead tomorrow, which means an early catch, Harry,' he said. 'We all know by now that Hufflepuff favour a drawn out game and we can't afford to win by a slim margin, it's all about points. You're on a Firebolt now, Harry, but Diggory's good. He's got years of flying experience and an eye for the Snitch. They will destroy Slytherin, so we've got to be on our A-Game tomorrow. Fred, George, focus on their Chasers tomorrow, our girls can easily dodge the Bludgers and get the Quaffle past Fleet.' He beamed at his team, confident in their abilities, then said, 'OK, everyone, let's go -'

And at long last, Harry mounted his Firebolt, and kicked off from the ground.

It was better than he'd ever dreamed. The Firebolt turned with the lightest touch; it seemed to obey his thoughts rather than his grip. It sped across the pitch at such speed that the stadium turned into a green and grey blur; Harry turned it so sharply that Alicia Spinnet screamed, then he went into a perfectly controlled dive, brushing the grassy pitch with his toes before rising thirty, forty, fifty feet into the air again -

'Harry, I'm letting the Snitch out!' Wood called.

Harry turned and raced a Bludger towards the goalposts; he outstripped it easily, saw the Snitch dart out from behind Wood and within ten seconds had caught it tightly in his hand.

The team cheered madly. Harry let the Snitch go again, gave it a minute's head start, then tore after it, weaving in and out of the others; he spotted it lurking near Katie Bell's knee, looped her easily, and caught it again.

It was the best practice ever; the team, inspired by the presence of the Firebolt in their midst, performed their best moved faultlessly, and by the time they hit the ground again, Wood didn't have a single criticism to make, which, as George Weasley pointed out, was a first.

'I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow,' Wood said. 'Well done everyone. And Harry - amazing broom, just phenomenal! Let's head back to the Tower everyone - turn in early ...'

'I'm staying out for a bit, Ron wants a go on the Firebolt,' Harry told Wood, and while the rest of the team headed off to the changing rooms, Harry strode over to Ron and Neville, who vaulted the barrier to the stands and came to meet him.

'Half an hour,' said Madam Hooch from the stands as she looked at the setting sun.

'Here you go,' said Harry, handing Ron the Firebolt.

Ron, an expression of ecstasy on his face, mounted the broom and zoomed off into the gathering darkness while Harry and Neville walked around the edge of the pitch, watching him.

Half an hour came and went, but Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in the stands and night had long fallen before she awoke with a start. She told the three of them off for not waking her and insisted that they go back to the castle.

Harry shouldered the Firebolt and he, Ron and Neville walked out of the shadowy stadium, discussing the Firebolt's superbly smooth action, its phenomenal acceleration and it's pinpoint turning. They returned to the castle in high spirits and though they wanted to stay up all night, Harry had a game tomorrow, so they all collapsed onto their four poster beds.

*

Harry went down to breakfast next morning with the rest of the boys in his dormitory, all of whom seemed to think the Firebolt deserved a sort of guard of honour. As Harry entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering. Harry saw, with enormous satisfaction that the Slytherin team were all looking thunderstruck.

'Put it here, Harry,' said Wood, basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upwards. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff takes were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory himself came over to congratulate Harry in awaiting such a superb replacement for his Nimbus.

'I look forward to the match,' he said, shaking Harry's hands.

'Now, now, Diggory,' said Wood squaring up, ' move along, you'll be seeing plenty of this broom during the match.' Cedric smiled, but headed back to his own team.

'Yes,' came a cold voice, 'it is a very fine broomstick.' It was Professor Black. 'Unfortunately I wasn't privvy to all the poking and prodding that a select few of my colleagues were, so this is the first time I've seen the Firebolt up close. May I?'

Far be it for Harry to say no to a teacher he passed the Firebolt to Black, who held it with reverence.

'Good weight ... sleek ... a beautifully crafted tail ... yes, I think this will give you quite the advantage, Mr Potter. But remember, no matter how good the Seeker is, Quidditch is a team game, I hope the rest of your teammates can keep up with you.' Black passed the broomstick back and walked away to the teacher's table.

'I think someone might be jealous of your broom, Harry,' said Geroge making Gryffindors laughed.

At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the changing rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match with Slytherin. It was a clear, cool day, with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and Harry, though nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. They could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond. Harry took off his black school robes, removed his wand from his pocket and sick it inside the T-shirt he was going to wear under his Quidditch robes just in case any Dementors, real or not, turned up.

They walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous applause. The Hufflepuff team, dressed in canary yellow, were walking out from the other end of the pitch.

'Wood, Diggory, shake hands,' Madam Hooch said as the teams met in the middle.

'Mount your brooms ... on my whistle ... three - two - one -'

Harry kicked off into the air and the Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom; he soared around the stadium and began squinting around for the Snitch, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan 

'They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt which Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship -'

'Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?' interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.

'Right you are, Professor - just giving a bit of background information. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built in auto-brake and -'

'Jordan!'

'OK, OK, Hufflepuff are in possession, Heidi Macavoy with the Quaffle, she passes to Malcolm Preece, who heads for the goal, wonderful save from Gryffindor captain, Oliver Wood who throws the Quaffle to the ever radiant Angelina Johnson ...'

Harry was watching all from up high, watching for any glint of gold. Suddenly a Bludger came pelting out of nowhere, but Harry dodged with ease.

'Nice move Harry,' said George who had come to hit the Bludger at Preece as he intercepted a pass between Angelina and Katie Bell. Suddenly the second Bludger came speeding towards Harry. George got between them just in time, and sent it hurtling down the pitch where Fred redirected it towards Tamsin Appleby who now had possession. The first Bludger was returned by Anthony Rickety. Again Harry dodged it and George beat it away.

'Don't worry about me George, I'm fast enough to get out of the way of a Bludger on the Firebolt. But I can't concentrate on finding the Snitch with you flying around me,' said Harry.

George looked concerned for a moment, before saluting and heading back into the thick of the game. Clearly Harry was a threat to the Hufflepuffs. A Bludger was coming for him again and, as Katie scored the first points of the game, he raced across to the other side of the pitch..

'Gryffindor lead ten points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now. See it turn - the Bludgers are no match speed wise. The Firebolt's precision-balance is really noticable in these long -'.

'JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!'

Hufflepuff were keeping up with them, but Gryffindor still kept the lead, and had extended it to forty points clear, but at one point they were ahead sixty zero. The longer Hufflepuff played, the better they were. Harry had no doubt that soon enough they'd overtake on goals. At the moment they could still win if Harry caught the Snitch first, but so could Hufflepuff if Cedric was quicker.

Cedric himself was on the periphery of the pitch, taking it all in, waiting for the moment to strike. Then he made his move. Harry looked to where he was headed and saw a glint of gold near the Gryffindor goalposts. He urged the Firebolt forward, his broom was the fastest on the pitch, but Cedric had the advantage. Harry was gaining on him, but Cedric was closing in on the Snitch.

'HARRY! WATCH OUT!' Harry heard Fred shout. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a Bludger heading his way. He instantly spun so he was flying upside down on his broom. As he righted himself he spun into the tail of Cedric's Comet pushing him off course and allowing the Snitch to escape.

'Madam Hooch has blown her whistle and is giving Hufflepuff a penalty for an apparent blatching offence, which anyone with eyes could see was an accident -'

'JORDAN!'

'Sorry, Professor, I'm not accusing Madam Hooch of favouritism, it's just that the Hufflepuffs are clearly cheating as they realise they are no match for Harry's Firebolt. Did you know -'

'If you give one more fact about the Firebolt I will find a replacement commentator Mr Jordan.'

'The score is eighty thirty to Gryffindor and Alicia Spinnet has the Quaffle ...'

Cedric flew over to Harry's side.

'You almost had me there, Harry,' he shouted across.

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'but if your Beater hadn't hit that Bludger at me and made me spin into your broom I reckon you'd've caught the Snitch.'

'That's Quidditch! I'm going to get it next time though,' said Cedric before speeding off to look for the Snitch again. Then Harry saw it darting above the stands. He raced over, keeping his eye out for Bludgers. He was getting closer and closer, and was still accelerating, the crowds in the stand he was speeding towards ducked behind their seats. He caught the Snitch and pulled his broomstick up into a brake, stopping just shy of Professor Black's head.

'Nice flying, Mr Potter. The Firebolt suits you well,' said Black before the cheers rose from the Gryffindor stands as Lee Jordan announced the win.

*

The mood in the common room was electric.

Gryffindor were in the lead for the House Championship and unless something drastic happened in their match against Ravenclaw (currently bottom of the League), or the Slytherin Hufflepuff game was won by a ridiculous margin, they had pretty much won the championship.

The party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of Butterbeer, pumpkin fizz and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

(POA 195-198)


	27. Black vs Lupin

(POA 199-201).

'He probably wants to hear all about Black!' said Ron.

So at six o'clock that evening, Harry and Ron left Gryffindor Tower, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the Entrance Hall.

Hagrid was already waiting for them.

'All right, Hagrid!' said Ron. 'S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you?'

'I've heard all abou' it,' said Hagrid, opening the front doors and leading them outside.

'Oh,' said Ron, looking slightly put out.

They got to Hagrid's and took a seat at his table. Hagrid poured them tea and offered them a plate of Bath buns, but they knew better than to accept; they had too much experience of Hagrid's cooking.

'I got somethin' ter discuss with you two,' said Hagrid, sitting himself between them and looking uncharacteristically serious.

'What?' said Harry.

'Hermione,' said Hagrid.

'What about her?' said Ron.

'She's in a righ' state, that's what. She's bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin felelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because of the Firebolt, now yet not talkin' to her because her cat -'

'- ate Scabbers!' Ron interjected angrily.

'Because her cat acted like all cats do,' Hagrid continued doggedly. 'She's cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin' through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more'n she can chew if yeh ask me, all the work she's tryin' ter do. Gawd knows yeh've had enough ter be gettin' on with too, I've seen yeh practisin' Quidditch ev'ry hour o' the day an' night - but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yeh friend more'n broomsticks or rats. Tha's all.'

Harry and Ron exchanged uncomfortable looks.

'Really upset, she was, when Sirius Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ron. She's got her heart in the right place, Hermione has, an' you two not talkin' to her -'

'If she just got rid of that cat, I'd speak to her again!' Ron said angrily. 'But she's still sticking up for it! It's a maniac, and she won't hear a word against it!'

'Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets,' said Hagrid. Harry thought back to Aragog, the giant spider Hagrid had raised from birth that Harry and Hermione had met last year. He had tried to eat them.

They spent the rest of their visit discussing the strong chances of Gryffindor winning the Quidditch Cup. At nine o'clock, Hagrid walked them back up to the castle.

(POA 203-204)

Harry hurried to the third floor, slipping the Marauder's Map out of his pocket as he went. Crouching behind the one-eyed witch, he smoothed it out. A tiny dot was moving in his direction. Harry squinted at it. The miniscule writing next to it said 'Neville Longbottom'.

Feeling sorry for him being stuck at Hogwarts, Harry waited a moment as Neville came around the corner.

'Harry! I forgot you weren't going to Hogsmeade either!'

'Hi Neville,' said Harry. 'I've got something to share with you. Come over here.' Neville joined him behind the witch and Harry pulled out his wand and muttered, 'Didssendium!'

Neville's eyes grew in astonishment. Harry threw his bag down and said, 'Quick, before someone comes.'

Neville climbed down, followed by Harry.

'What is this place?' Neville asked in awe.

'It's a secret tunnel to Hogsmeade, but it's got to stay our secret. Come on.'

The two of them jogged down the passageway to the Honeydukes basement. 

'Harry,' said Neville, 'is this a good idea? What if someone sees us and reports us?'

Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and smiled.

'Get under here with me,' he said.

The two of them made sure they were well covered and made their way into the sunlight where they saw Ron. Harry prodded his back.

'It's me,' he muttered. 'And I've got Neville with me.'

'Oh, hey Neville,' Ron whispered.

They set off up the High Street.

'Where are you?' Ron kept muttering out of the corner of his mouth. 'Are you still there? This feels weird ...'

They went into the Post Office; Ron pretended to be checking the price of an owl to Bill in Egypt so that Harry and Neville could look around. The owls sat hooting softly down at them, at least three hundred of them; from Great Grey's right down to tiny little Scops owls ('Local Deliveries Only') which were so small they could have sat in the palm of Harry's hand.

Then they tried to visit Zonko's, but it was so packed with students Harry and Neville had no chance of remaining undetected in there.

The day was fine and breezy, and none of them felt like staying indoors, so they walked past the Three Broomsticks and climbed a slope to the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted house in Britain. It stood a little way above the rest of the village, and even in daylight was slightly creepy, with its boarded windows and dank overgrown garden.

'Even the Hogwarts ghosts avoid it,' said Ron, as they leaned on the fence looking up at it. 'I asked Nearly Headless Nick ... he says he's heard a very rough crowd live here. No one can get in. Fred and George tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut ...'

Harry and Neville, hot from the climb, were just considering taking off the Cloak for a few minutes, when they heard footsteps coming closer.

Malfoy appeared and looked across at Ron.

'What are you doing here, Weasley?' he asked.

'What's it to you?' said Ron. 'Where are all your friends anyway?'

Malfoy didn't answer, he just sat on a nearby log.

'To be honest, Weasley I don't really have any friends. I'm not exactly well liked, even amongst Slytherins. And I could ask you the same thing. Or are they all too good for you now. Potter, Granger and Longbottom are all in the Slug Club, aren't they? Even your little sister got in.' 

Malfoy had found Ron's weak point. He had always worried about not living up to his brothers, and now he had Ginny to contend with too. His ears had started to turn pink.

'They're meeting again tonight, Pansy and Blaise were bragging about it.'

'So do you want us to throw our own party for people not good enough to get in?' said Ron.

Malfoy chuckled.

'Yeah, well you and I both have family expectations to live up to, don't we?' he said.

'What are you talking about?' asked Ron..

'Doesn't matter,' said Malfoy, standing up once more. 'Thought you might understand, but apparently not.' With that he walked away and Harry removed the Cloak covering him and Neville.

'What was that all about?' asked Neville.

Harry looked at Ron and said, 'I told you there was more to him, didn't I?' Ron just nodded thoughtfully.

*

After their day in Hogsmeade, Harry and Neville made their way back to the Honeydukes basement and down the secret passage. As they reached the witch's hump, Harry took out the Marauder's Map and checked it. There was no one there. He and Neville climbed out and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry folded the map and placed it back in his pocket, and stuffed the Invisibility Cloak into his bag. A few corridors later, they turned a corner they walked directly into Professor Black.

'Ah, Mr Potter, Mr Longbottom, just the people I wanted to see,' Black said looking down suspiciously at them. 'I've actually been searching for you all day, but could not find hide nor hair of you anywhere, though from the state of your shoes I assume you've been walking the Castle grounds. Hopefully not unattended, that would be extremely dangerous with my brother on the run.'

Harry couldn't help but feel Black knew exactly where they had been. Neville was trembling next to him.

'I wanted to let you know that tonight's Slug Club is being held in Dungeon 5, at 7pm. Though Mr Longbottom, you will be unable to attend. Professor McGonagall is setting your first detention for tonight. I have to say, were it not for you proficiency at Potions and Herbology, such a foolishly careless act as leaving a list passwords around would have been enough for you to have lost your place in the club. Don't slip up again.'

Black turned to walk off, but then noticed something.

'What's that in your pocket Mr Potter?' he asked. It was the map, just peeping out.

'Spare bit of parchment,' Harry said.

'It looks awfully old, hand it over, please.'

Reluctantly Harry passed it to Black, who examined it with great care.

'Why, on a weekend, would you be galavanting around the school grounds with such an old piece of parchment in your pocket?' said Black. 'Unless you weren't galavanting around the grounds, but somewhere else. Hogsmeade perhaps, and maybe this parchment told you how to get there.'

He tapped the map and said 'Aparecium!'

Nothing happened.

'I, Professor Regulus Black, will find your secrets,' he said, as much to himself as to the map.

But it would seem the map heard, because words appeared on its smooth surface, as if written by an invisible hand.

'Mr Padfoot would like to remind Reggie to keep his nose out of other people's business.'

Black froze. Harry and Neville stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first.

'Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Padfoot and would like to advise Professor Black to get some friends.'

'Mr Moony would like to congratulate Regulus on becoming a Professor, but concurs with his fellows that you should worry about your own business, rather than anyone else's.'

'Mr Wormtail bids Professor Black good day, and recommends he see a healer to replace his backbone.'

The map had had it's last word. Black hadn't said anything, but his eyes were ablaze with anger.

'Follow me,' he said quietly. Both Harry and Neville knew this was the calm before the storm.

Black didn't take them to his office in the dungeons as Harry expected. Nor did he take them to Dumbledore or even Professor McGonagall. Instead they went to Lupin's office. Black rapped on the door, and Lupin opened it wide.

'Regulus, welcome,' he said. 'What can I do for you.'

Professor Black brandished the map at Lupin, its words still shining brightly.

'Mr Potter was found with this on his person,' Black said.

'I see,' said Lupin. 'And you brought it to me because ...'

'I'm wondering where it may have been lying around for him to have found it, and whether it might reveal some of Hogwarts secrets,' said Black, with an accusatory tone in his voice.

'How should I know?' asked Lupin. 'Have you asked Harry? It looks like a joke parchment to me, I assume one of his friends bought it him from Zonko's'

'Open it. Tell it who you are and open it,' said Black, ignoring Lupin.

'Really now, Regulus.'

Harry had no idea what was going on, he had never seen Professor Black so filled with vitriol before. Lupin sighed and said in a resigned voice, 'My name is Remus John Lupin, can you reveal your secrets.'

The map wiped itself clear, then new writing appeared.

'Mr Moony would like to congratulate Professor Black on his ingenuity, but can't believe he thought this would work.'

'Mr Padfoot would like to add his congratulations too, but asks Reggie to stop trying so hard.'

'Mr Prongs is wondering how little Regulus became a professor with this kind of thinking.'

'Mr Wormtail would like to reiterate that Professor Black would do well to keep his nose out of things that don't concern him.'

Black snapped. 'I don't know what game you're playing Remus, but I seriously hope my suspicions about that parchment are wrong.' Black turned to Harry and Neville. 'I know you two are hiding something, so I don't expect to see either of you at any of our future Slug Club dinners.'

Black left the office and Remus sighed and sat behind his desk. 

'Professor I-'

'I don't want to hear explanations,' said Lupin shortly. 'I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map,' he said, as Harry and Neville looked amazed. 'I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after Sirius found Neville's passwords lying around. I'm afraid I can't let you have it back, Harry.'

Harry had expected that and was too thankful to not have any worse punishment to protest.

'Don't expect me to cover for you again, Harry. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought what you have heard when Dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them - gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks.'

Harry and Neville left Lupin's office.

'Sorry you got pulled into that, Neville,' said Harry.

'S'alright,' said Neville, 'but I think that's more than enough rule breaking for my lifetime!

*

Harry and Neville joined Ron in the Great Hall that night for dinner. Neville had half an hour before his detention with McGonagall. Harry was still upset he had lost the map.

'Oh how you have fallen,' said Ron, trying to cheer then up, 'having to eat with the average folk, like me and Malfoy!'

But Harry didn't care about the Slug Club, he found it all too self-important anyway. He had been looking forward to spending a bit of time with Hermione though. Whenever Ron was around Harry had to take his side, but he still missed his other friend.

At that moment, as if he had willed her into existence she stormed into the Great Hall and sat haughtily at the Gryffindor table between Neville and Fred, and helped herself to a Jacket Potato. A second later Ginny appeared at the door and collapsed next to Ron in a fit of giggles.

'What are you two doing here?' Ron asked. 'Why aren't you at the Slug Club.'

Hermione ignored him, but Ginny said, 'Oh, Ron, it was brilliant. Black was talking about how Harry wasn't there tonight and wouldn't be coming back because he was so reckless he would get himself killed looking for trouble and as such not fit to be part of the Club. Then Hermione said "Harry doesn't go looking for trouble and he's not looking for Sirius Black either and perhaps she didn't want to be part of a stupid Club ran by a petty teacher anyway" and stormed out.'

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione agog as she selected a piece of gammon.

'So I followed, and I think a couple of others did too.' Harry looked up to see Cedric Diggory, and the Ravenclaw seeker he'd been talking to at the Hallowe'en dinner walking in too. They waved at Harry and walked to their respective tables.

'Thanks Hermione,' Harry said, turning to her.

'Yeah,' said Ron, 'I can't believe you spoke to a teacher like that ... so cool ...'

Hermione looked up from her dinner, eyes red, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

'You think so?' she asked.

'Yeah!' said Ron. 'especially from a teacher's pet like you.'

Hermione laughed. 'Oh, Ron,' she said. 'I am sorry about Scabbers, I really, really am ...'

'Well, he was old,' Ron conceded. 'And a bit useless too. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now.'


	28. Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw

Harry, Ron and Hermione were still sat talking and making up by the common room fire when Neville came back from his detention looking the most miserable they had ever seen him. 

'She got me cleaning up the Owlery,' Neville moaned. 'Without magic! Do you know how many birds roost there?' He threw himself into the nearest armchair, rubbing his arm. 'Filch was loving every minute of it.'

'Well at least you don't have to go back,' said Hermione, trying to find a positive. Neville looked at her wide-eyed in horror.

'I wish I didn't have to go back!' he said. 'But McGonagall said I have to do it once a week for every password I lost. That's seven weeks! It'll take me right up to April ...'

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so offered Neville a Chocolate Frog, which he accepted without much enthusiasm. The four of them sat in silence for a moment, until Hermione excused herself for bed. The three boys made their way up to their dormitory too, and each fell right asleep.

*

The first Potions lesson of the week was incredibly uncomfortable. Black chose to ignore Harry, Neville and Hermione and had the class making antidotes to common poisons in pairs of their choosing.

Ron and Hermione were at one station back to bickering (Ron wasn't grinding their bezoar finely enough) but at least they were talking. Harry and Neville elected to work together. As always in Potions when they partnered up, there was one student left over who needed to join a pair.

Today this was Malfoy. He walked over to his old cronies, Crabbe and Goyle who shuffled round their cauldron so they didn't have to look at him. Pansy just laughed when he walked over to where she and Daphne Greengrass were working.

Harry looked at Neville who smiled weakly as if to say 'I know exactly what you're going to do, and realise I have no choice in this.'

'Draco,' Harry said softly, yet still the class went silent. Everyone was looking. 'Did you - er - want to - er - join me and Neville?'

Ron knocked his mortar and pestle to the floor causing Hermione to hiss, 'Ronald!'.

Harry realised how foolish he'd just been. If Draco accepted he'd be an outcast in Slytherin, and they'd make the next 4 and a half years a living hell for him. If he declined Harry knew they'd never have a cordial conversation ever again.

The class watched with baited breath.

Draco looked at Professor Black who gave only the slightest inclination of the head. Draco took a deep breath and walked over to Harry's bench and the student chatter started up again immediately.

'Thanks,' said Malfoy. 

'Pleasure,' said Harry, 

'Yeah, anytime,' said Neville. They made their potion in an awkward silence, only talking when Neville gave instructions. At the end of the two hours they packed up their belongings and Professor Black asked Harry and Neville to stay behind.

'I would like to apologise to the two of you for my outburst at the weekend. The parchment you had in pocket, and I don't believe for one second that it came from any jokeshop, called me Reggie. This was a name my brother used to call me when we were younger. Clearly with everything going on surrounding my brother's escape my emotions got the better of me and I overreacted significantly.'

Harry was in shock. He'd never had an adult apologise to him before.

'I understand if you do not wish to rejoin the Slug Club,' Black continued, 'but there's no doubt you both belong in it. As does Miss Granger for that matter. That's a very good friend you have there, hold on to her. I could have done with a friend like her when I was your age, and I think you'd do well to listen to her a little more from time to time.

'Talking of friends ... I appreciate what you did for Mr Malfoy this afternoon. It was as very noble action, well befitting of your house, and you should both be very proud. As such I award you each 20 house points.'

Maybe Harry had got Black all wrong. He had always assumed he was cold hearted and emotionless, but it seemed now more like he kept his feelings close to his chest.

Harry and Neville left the dungeon and headed back to Gryffindor Tower to drop their bags off before dinner.

At dinner they noticed that Draco was nowhere to be seen.

'Do you think he's alright?' said Hermione, with concern.

'He'll be fine,' said Ron, helping himself to a large pile of Mash Potato. 'What can anyone do to him without Black finding out? Turns out he's got a heart - who knew?' Ron was still reeling from the events of the afternoon.

*

They didn't see Draco again until Care of Magical Creatures the next day. When he turned up he was instantly tripped by Theodore Nott and fell straight to the ground. Harry went to help him up but was shrugged off.

'I'm fine,' Draco said sullenly. He sat apart from the rest of the class as they learnt how to handle gnomes. Thanks to the infestation the Weasleys had at The Burrow, Ron was a natural. He managed to throw his gnome the furthest - neither Crabbe nor Goyle could get to grips with the correct hold, and threw their gnomes by the head rather than the ankles, meaning their gnomes fell like a sack of potatoes about three foot away.

Draco did not participate.

After class Draco was the first to head back to the castle. Harry raced after him.

'Look,' Harry said, 'you'll have to talk to someone eventually.'

Draco turned and punched Harry, catching him unawares and felling him.

'I never asked for your help!' Draco screamed. 'I was doing fine, and now they all hate me. None of them will talk to me. They locked me in my trunk last night. That's why I wasn't at dinner. And it's your fault, Harry. I don't want any more of your pity.' With that he ran into the castle. Ron, Hermione and Neville had caught up by that point.

'Are you ok, Harry?' Hermione asked.

'Yeah,' Harry spat bitterly. 'Fine.'

'Come on, mate,' said Ron. 'You've got a cut under your eye, let's go to the bathroom and fix you up. Hermione, will you let Flitwick know we're going to be late?'

Hermione nodded and they went their separate ways.

After Harry had cleaned the blood from his face he and Ron went to charms.

'Come on boys, sit down, I've heard all about your skirmish' said Professor Flitwick disapprovingly as they entered. 'Get your wands out, quickly, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today. We've already divided into pairs.

They took a desk next to Neville who was paired with Dean Thomas.

'Where's Hermione?' Ron asked Neville.

'I dunno,' said Neville. 'One minute she was behind me, the next she was gone!'

'That's weird,' said Harry, staring at Ron. 'Maybe - maybe she went to the bathroom or something?

But Hermione didn't turn up all lesson. She wasn't at lunch either. By the time they had finished their apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and Harry and Ron had started to get slightly worried.

'Maybe she's in the common room?' Ron said anxiously, and they hurried upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.

They passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password (Flibbertigibbet) and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.

Hermione was sitting at a table, fast asleep, her head resting on an open Arithmancy book. They went to sit down either side of her. Harry prodded her awake.

'Wh-what?' said Hermione, waking with a start, and staring wildly around. 'Is it time to go? W-which lesson have we got now?'

'Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes,' said Harry. 'Why didn't you go to Charms?'

'What? Oh no!' Hermione squeaked. 'I forgot to go to Charms!'

'But how could you forget? Neville said you were with him til right outside the classroom!'

'I don't believe it!' Hermione wailed. 'Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!'

(POA 218-221)

The Easter Holidays were not exactly relaxing, though Neville was happy that he didn't have to step foot inside the Owlery again for a long time. Unfortunately the third years had never had so much homework.

'Call this a holiday!' Seamus Finnegan roared at the common room one afternoon. 'The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?'

But nobody has as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.

Harry meanwhile, had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. Hufflepuff had destroyed Slytherin at their game a couple of weeks earlier which was going to make the upcoming Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match, on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays, more difficult. Hufflepuff were leading the tournament by three hundred and twenty points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match against Ravenclaw by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

'So you must _only_ catch it if we're _more_ than one hundred and seventy points up, Harry, or we win the match but lost the Cup. You've got that haven't you? You must only catch the Snitch if we're -'.

'I KNOW OLIVER!' Harry yelled.

The whole of Gryffindor house was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second-oldest brother) had been Seeker.

Wood was so focused on his relentless training regime, Harry barely had time to wonder where Draco was after the holidays. He couldn't be found in the Great Hall at mealtimes, nor was he in any of the usual classes.

He broached the subject with Professor Black after Potions one day.

'Mr Malfoy will not be returning to Hogwarts due to personal reasons, Mr Potter,' Black told him. 'I wouldn't concern myself if I were you, but just know that he is OK.'

And no more was said on the subject.

*

All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.

(POA 222-224)

Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall to enormous applause. Cedric Diggory walked up to Wood and shook his hand.

'Best of luck for today,' Cedric said. 'We got lucky with Slytherin, but you're a formidable team, so I'm not counting my cockatrice before they're hatched. I'm looking forward to watching the match.'

Wood spent the rest of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the pitch before anyone had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions.

'OK ... no wind to speak of ... sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it ... ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kick-off ...'

Wood paced the pitch, staring around with the team behind him. Finally they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance, and the rest of the school spill onto the lawn.

'Changing rooms,' said Wood tersely.

None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. Harry wondered if they were feeling like he was: as though he'd eaten something extremely wiggly for breakfast. In what seemed like no time at all, Wood was saying, 'OK, it's time, let's go ...'

They walked out onto the pitch to cheers from the Gryffindor supporters.

'And here are the Gryffindors!' yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. 'Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley and Wood. Widely acknowledged to be the best side Hogwarts has seen for a few good years -'

Lee's comments were drowned by a ride if 'boos' from the Slytherins and more than a few Hufflepuffs.

'And here come the Ravenclaw team, led by captain Davies-'

Most of the stadium erupted into cheers as the Ravenclaw team walked onto the pitch. Obviously the Ravenclaws themselves were cheering, but also the Hufflepuffs who knew that a Ravenclaw win today would mean the Championship was theirs, and the Slytherins who just wanted to see Gryffindor lose.

'Captains, shake hands!' said Madam Hooch. Wood and Davies shook.

'Mount you brooms ... three ... two ... one ...'

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar of the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.

Harry flew higher than anyone else, getting himself a good vantage point. It was a waiting game for him. He listened as Ravenclaw scored the first points of the match, but Gryffindor fought back and were soon sixty points ahead.

Harry had his eyes constantly on the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang. She had been part of Black's Slug Club, and had walked out with Hermione; she was the only girl on the Ravenclaw team; and she was very pretty. Most importantly of all, today she was Harry's rival.

At one hundred and fifty to forty he noticed Chang surge forward, he followed her eyeline and spied the Snitch. Racing towards it he managed to intercept before she got anywhere near it, and the Snitch was lost again.

'Sneaky play, Potter,' she called over, before heading back to the game. 

At one hundred and ninety to sixty Wood was almost hit by a Bludger, allowing Ravenclaw to bring their score up to seventy.

At two hundred and thirty to ninety Alicia intercepted the Quaffle as the Ravenclaws passed it between them.

At two hundred and seventy to one hundred and thirty Harry saw the Snitch again, flying around the bottom of the Ravenclaw goal posts. Cho Chang was looking the wrong way though.

At three hundred and ten to one hundred and forty Wood called a time out and the Gryffindor team huddled around him.

'You're doing great out there,' he said, 'and we've almost clinched it. Girls, we need one more goal and then Harry can go in for the Snitch. You've done so well so far, let's finish this.'

They kicked off again and Katie got possession of the Quaffle. Harry started to search for the Snitch. He saw it glistening by the edge of the pitch. He readied himself. Then he saw Cho Chang streaming towards the Snitch. He sped over to the other end of the pitch, overtaking Cho on the way.

'Katie Bell scores,' Harry heard Lee Jordan say. 'Gryffindor have three hundred and twenty, Ravenclaw one hundred and forty, Stratton has the Quaffle ...'

A Bludger came for Harry out of nowhere. He dodged it, but lost the Snitch in the process. A moment later he saw it again and raced after it.

'Stretton passes to Davies, who passes to Burrow ...'

Harry climbed upwards to the golden orb as it flitted this way and that, his Firebolt following his every guidance.

'Burrow scores! Gryffindor still on three hundred and twenty, Ravenclaw one hundred and fifty!'

Harry heard the news just in time and pulled away from the Snitch just before his fingers closed around it.

'Alicia Spinnet takes control of the Quaffle protected from a Bludger by George Weasley ...'

Harry followed the Snitch at a steady pace, waiting for the moment Gryffindor had the advantage again.

'Spinnet to Johnson, Johnson to Bell, Bell to Johnson ...'

Cho was tailing him, trying to get around him to the Snitch. Harry zig zagged, making a pass impossible, whilst keeping close to the Snitch.

'And Johnson scores!'

Harry closed in and his fingers curled around the Snitch.

'AND POTTER CATCHES THE GOLDEN SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR HAVE FOUR HUNDRED AND EIGHTY POINTS, RAVENCLAW HAVE ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY!' Lee Jordan screamed. 'GRYFFINDOR WIN THE GAME AND THE CHAMPIONSHIP!'

Wood sped towards Harry, half-blinded by tears, he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Harry felt two thumps as Fred and George hit them; then Angelina, Alicia and Katie's voices, 'We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!' Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

The entirety of the Gryffindor house spilled onto the Quidditch pitch, cheering. Even Percy was jumping up and down like a madman, and McGonagall seemed to be sobbing harder than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag.

And there, fighting their way towards Harry were Ron, Hermione and Neville. Words failed them, they simply beamed as Harry was carried by his teammates to the stands where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

If only there had been a Dementor around ... As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus.


	29. Professor Trelawney's Prediction

(POA 231-232)

'Hermione?' Ron said cautiously, because she was liable to explode when interrupted these days. 'Er - are you sure you've copied down these times right?'

'What?' snapped Hermione, picking up the exam timetable and examining it. 'Yes, of course I have.'

'Is there any point asking how you're going to sit two exams at once?' said Harry.

'No,' said Hermione shortly. 'Has either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Grammatica?'

'Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading,' said Ron, but very quietly. Hermione started shifting heaps of parchment around on her table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Hedwig fluttered through it, a letter attached to her leg.

'Hello, girl,' Harry said as he untied the letter and Hedwig nibbled his ear affectionately. Over a week ago he'd sent her with a letter to Draco, trying to find the source of his sudden disappearance. He now held that very same letter in his hand.

'Maybe she couldn't find him?' said Hermione. 'You did think she'd been gone an awfully long time, after all.'

'Not Hedwig,' said Harry with certainty. 'She found you in the South of France, didn't she?'

'Obviously he doesn't want to talk,' said Ron. 'So I say, we just leave him be.' Harry couldn't help thinking Ron was almost happy by Draco's absence. He'd still never warmed to him. But Harry felt a deep sadness. It wasn't that he and Draco were friends, but Harry felt that they'd almost reached an understanding.

With their exams almost upon them though, Harry had no time to wonder why Draco had sent Hedwig back, with the letter unopened.

*

Exam week began and an unusual hush fell over the castle. The third-years emerged from Transfiguration at lunch-time on Monday limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks they had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise. Hermione irritated the rest by fussing about how her tortoise had looked more like a turtle, which was the least of everyone else's worries.

'Mine still had a spout for a tail, what a nightmare ...'

'Were the tortoises supposed to breathe steam?'

'It still had a willow-patterned shell, d'you think that'll count against me?'

Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. Hermione had been right; Professor Flitwick did indeed test them on Cheering Charms. Harry slightly overdid his out of nerves and Ron, who was partnering him, ended up fits if hysterical laughter and had to be led away to a quiet room for an hour before he was ready to perform the Charm himself. After dinner, the students hurried back to their common rooms, not to relax, but to start revising for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions and Astronomy.

Hagrid's exam consisted of the class carefully pulling up Horklumps from one of his vegetable patches so they could be moved to a more suitable location. Horklumps were little mushroom-like creatures, whose deep rooted tentacles made this a difficult task, and an incredibly tedious one.

'Why don' you three come round mine after your exams are done on Thursday?' Hagrid said, crouching under the pretence of watching Harry working one of the Horklumps out of the ground. 'I've go' a surprise for yeh. I'll take yeh down after dinner.'

Going into Potions they now had something to look forward to other than the end of their exams. Harry felt Black's exam hadn't gone too badly, but he had hoped that his Confusing Concoction would be a little bit thicker, however he was distracted by the empty station where Draco should have been.

Astronomy came at midnight, up in the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which Harry scribbled everything Florean Fortescue had ever told him about medieval witch hunts, while wishing he could have had one of Fortescue's choco-nut sundaes with him in the stifling classroom. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with the backs of their necks sunburnt, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.

Their second from last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing Grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh, ignoring the misleading directions from a Hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new Boggart.

'Excellent, Harry,' Lupin muttered, as Harry climbed out of the trunk, grinning. 'Full marks.'

Flushed with his success, Harry hung around to watch Ron, Hermione and Neville's attempts. Ron did very well until he reached the Hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Neville struggled right up until the end when he left the trunk grinning. Hermione, on the other hand, did everything perfectly until she reached the Boggart. After about a minute inside the trunk, she burst out again, screaming.

'Hermione!' said Lupin, startled. 'What's the matter?'

'P-P-Professor McGonagall!' Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. 'Sh-she said I'd failed everything!'

It took a little while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry, Ron and Neville went back to the castle. Ron was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermione's Boggart, but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on the top of the steps.

Cornelius Fudge, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. He started at the sight of Harry.

'Hello there, Harry!' he said. 'Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?'

'Yes,' said Harry. The other three, not being on speaking terms with the Minister for Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background.

'Lovely day, isn't it?' said Fudge, casting his eye over the lake. 'I'm here to visit Dumbledore and check on the Sirius Black situation. Though I have to say, all seems to be secure. Well, I'll let you carry on, I'm sure you have more important things to do than stand here talking with me.'

Fudge made his way into the castle and Harry and his friends followed behind and made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

Harry, Ron and Neville's last exam was Divination; Hermione's, Muggle Studies. They walked up the marble staircase together. Hermione left them on the first floor and the boys proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of their class were sitting in the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney's classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last minute revision. They were informed she was seeing each student individually.

Neville opened his copy of Unfogging the Future onto the pages dedicated to crystal-gazing.

'Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?' he asked Harry and Ron unhappily.

'Nope,' said Ron. 'Just make it up, Neville. As long as it sounds gloomy you'll be fine. Tell her you see Harry will die soon and you'll probably be top of the class.'

The queue of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed bag down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, 'What did she ask? Was it OK?'

But they all refused to say.

Parvati came down the ladder glittering with pride.

'She says I've got the makings of a true Seer,' she informed them. 'I saw loads of stuff ... Well, good luck!'

She hurried off down the spiral staircase towards Lavender.

The three boys had finally reached the landing and it was Neville's turn to be tested.

'How'd it go?' Harry asked as Neville emerged half an hour later. 'What tests did she set?

'She says the crystal ball's told her that, if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!' squeaked Neville.

'That's convenient,' snorted Ron. 'You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her' (he jabbed his thumb towards the two door), 'she's a right old -'

But, before he could finish his sentence Trelawney's familiar, misty voice called from over their heads, 'Ronald Weasley.' Ron grimaced at Harry and Neville, and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry was now the only person left to be tested. He and Neville settled themselves on the floor, Neville looking concerned at whatever Trelawney had said to him.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron's large feet reappeared on the ladder.

'How'd it go?' Harry asked him, standing up.

'Rubbish,' said Ron. 'Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced though ...'

'See you in a bit,' Harry muttered, as Professor Trelawney's voice called, 'Harry Potter!'

The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made Harry cough as he stumbled through the clutter if chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for him before a large crystal ball.

'Good day, my dear,' she said softly. 'If you would kindly gaze into the Orb ... take your time, now ... then tell me what you see within it ...'

Harry bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as he could, willing it to show him something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.

'Well?' Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. 'What do you see?'

The heat was so overpowering and his nostrils were stinging with the perfumes smoke wafting from the fire beside them. He thought of what Ron had just said, and decided to pretend.

'Er -,' said Harry, 'a dark shape... um ...'

'What does it resemble?' whispered Professor Trelawney. 'Think, now ...'

Harry cast his mind around and it landed on Scabbers.

'A rat,' he said firmly.

'Are you sure?' whispered Professor Trelawney. 'It's not, perhaps, the Grim?'

'No, it's definitely a rat,' said Harry.

'Well ...' Trelawney said carefully. 'A rat can be a sign of pestilence ... are you feeling unwell at all?'

'Nope,' said Harry. 'A little stuffy maybe.'

'What is the rat doing?'

'Er - it's running around. Looks like it's having fun.'

Professor Trelawney sighed.

'Well dear, I think we'll leave it there, I'm sure you tried your best.'

Relieved, Harry got up, picked up his bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind him.

'It will happen tonight.'

Harry wheeled around. Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in her armchair; her eyes were unfocused and her mouth sagging.

'S-sorry?' said Harry.

But Professor Trelawney didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes started to roll. Harry stood there in a panic. She looked as though she was about to have some sort of seizure. He hesitated, thinking about calling Ron and Neville to run to the hospital wing - and then Professor Trelawney spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike her own:

'The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servants aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight ... before midnight ... the servant ... will set out ... to rejoin ... his master ...'

Professor Trelawney's head fell forwards onto her chest. She made a grunting sort of noise. Then, quite suddenly, her head snapped up again.

'I'm so sorry, dear boy,' she said dreamily. 'The heat of the day, you know ... I drifted off for a moment.'

Harry stood there, still staring.

'Is there anything wrong, my dear?'

'You - you just told me that the- the Dark Lord's going to rise again ... that his servant's going back to him ...'

Professor Trelawney looked thoroughly startled.

'The Dark Lord? He Who Must Not Be Named? My dear boy, that's hardly something to joke about ... rise again, indeed ...'

'But you just said it! You said the Dark Lord -'

'I think you must have dozed off too, dear!' said Professor Trelawney. 'I would certainly not presume to predict anything quite as far-fetched as that!'

Harry climbed back down the ladder to Ron and Neville.

'Well?' said Ron. 'How was it?'

'Professor Trelawney just told me,' Harry said, 'that Voldemort's servant is going to find him tonight.'

Ron and Neville stared at him for a moment.

'Harry, she's just saying that to impress you. She knows you're you-know-who's biggest enemy. It's just another death prediction.'

'You don't understand,' said Harry. 'She went rigid and spoke with this strange voice. It was like she was possessed.'

'Well what can we do?' said Ron. 'It's not like anyone knows where you-know-who is, let alone his servant. Let's go to dinner, then go down to Hagrid's and worry about it if, by some miracle, the mad bat has made a genuine prediction!'


	30. Rat, Cat and Dog

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville went down to dinner with everybody else. Like Ron, Hermione was very skeptical of Trelawney's prediction, but Harry wasn't so sure. They hadn't heard her voice change or seen the way she went all rigid as if possessed. Neville was a little more believing, though even he failed to see how Voldemort could return - or perhaps he just didn't want to think about it.

After dinner Hagrid took the four of them down to his cabin.

'Here yeh go,' he said, passing each of them a Butterbeer. 'Congratulations on finishin' your exams. I go' some sweets from Honeydukes for yeh too.'

They all thanked Hagrid, though he could tell they were distracted.

'Wha's up with you four? I though' you'd be jumpin' for joy that exams were over an' done with.'

'It's Professor Trelawney, Hagrid,' said Hermione. 'She said something to Harry that's got him worried.'

'I wouldn' worry about it 'Arry. Professor Trelawney's great-great-grandmother was a world class Seer, bu' any talent she possessed has no' been passed on ter the Professor. I assume she told yeh that you're going ter die soon? You're lookin' 'ealthy enough ter me.'

'She said that Voldemort's servant was going to rejoin him and help him rise again,' said Harry miserably. 'And she went all rigid and her voice went all harsh ... I think it was a genuine prediction, Hagrid.'

''Onestly Harry. I thought you were more sensible than tha'!' said Hagrid. 'She's just trying to leave an impression on you, somethin' for yeh ter worry abou' over the summer. I'm sure tha' this time next year we'll all be sittin' around laughing because she's made another silly prediction tha' none of us need worry abou'.'

Harry was feeling slightly better that even Hagrid didn't think that Professor Trelawney could ever give a real prophecy.

'Anyway,' said Hagrid, 'I've got a surprise for yeh.' He reached up to the top shelf of his pantry and pulled down a teapot. 'I found 'im scurryin' around the other night when I was preparin' for your exam.'

He placed the teapot on the table and the four friends peered inside. There, curled up asleep was -

'Scabbers!' Ron reached in and plucked out his pet rat.

'Thin as anythin', 'e was. I've fattened 'im up a bi' now, but 'e's losin' hair and I don't think he'll last much longer if I'm being 'onest with yeh, Ron,' said Hagrid.

'See, I told you Crookshanks hadn't eaten him!' said Hermione.

'Yeah, well, there was blood all over my bed and your beast's hair,' said Ron. 'What was I supposed to have thought?'

'Perhaps,' said Hermione, 'you could have trusted that your friend's pet would not have attacked yours!'

'Now, now you two,' said Hagrid trying to calm Ron and Hermione down, whilst Harry and Neville were glad not to be in the middle of them. 'Enough's enough. This is why I didn't want ter show yeh until your exams 'ad passed. You 'ad enough ter worry abou'. Bu' I don't want you fightin' no more. Scabbers is alrigh', an' you two 'ave already fought enough.'

Hermione huffed and folded her arms, Ron held Scabbers tight and turned away from her. Hagrid sighed. As much as he could try, he knew he'd have to let them figure it out between themselves.

'Neville,' he said, changing the subject. 'Professor Black tells me yeh go' full marks on your Potions exam, well done!'

'Oh,' said Neville, blushing. 'Really? Wow! Thanks for telling me, I thought I might have stirred it clockwise once too many times or put in a little too much powdered Bicorn Horn ...'

The rest of the night should have passed happily enough but, as Ron and Hermion had gone back to not talking to one another, there was a sense of tension hanging in the air. Soon enough Hagrid decided it was time to take them back to the castle.

'Straigh' up ter yeh dormitories now, mind,' he said as he walked the four of them to the Entrance Hall. 'If yeh see any teachers send 'em my way, I'll le' them know where yeh've bin.'

As Hagrid left them, Scabbers began to wake from his slumber. As soon as he did so, he went beserk and bit Ron's hand.

'Ow!' Ron shouted in surprise, dropping his rat. 'Scabbers, where are you going? It's me, Ron!' 

Scabbers had raced off, back into the grounds, through an open window. A moment later a ginger blur zipped past the four friends and followed after him.

'THAT BLOODY CAT!' Ron roared, pulling open the front door and running out into the night.

Harry, Hermione and Neville looked at each other for a moment before rushing after him. The found him near the Whomping Willow, and lit their wands.

Crookshanks had pounced on top of Scabbers and Ron was trying to free his rat. He finally pulled Scabbers free and held him close to his chest, despite the rat's wiggles of protest.

That was when Harry saw the two luminous eyes in the darkness and a huge, shaggy black dog came bounding towards them. The dog knocked Ron down, grabbed him by his leg, and began dragging him towards the tree, who's flailing limbs were keeping the others at bay.

'RON!' Hermione shouted. The dog was dragging him into the roots of the Whomping Willow. Ron's leg hooked itself around one of the roots, then there was a crack as Ron's leg broke and he disappeared from view.

'Harry - we've got to go for help -' Hermione cried, not daring to get near the Willow's lashing branches.

'No! That thing's big enough to eat him, we haven't got time -'

'But we won't get past the Willow's branches -'

As if to prove Neville's point a branches whipped down at them, twigs clenched like knuckles.

'If that dog can get in, we can,' Harry panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but he couldn't get an inch nearer to the tree-roots without being in range of the tree's blows.

As Neville comforted Hermione with her sobs of 'help!', Crookshanks darted forwards. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk.

Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.

'Crookshanks!' Hermione whispered uncertainly. She now grasped Neville's arm so hard he winced. 'How did he know -?'

'He's friends with that dog,' said Harry grimly. 'I've seen them together. Come on - and keep your wands out -'

They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottle-brush tail. Harry went next; he crawled forwards, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of veryblow tunnel. Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harry's wand. Seconds later, Hermione slithered down, and moments after that, Neville tumbled down to join them.

'Where's Ron? Hermione whispered in a terrified voice.

'This way,' said Harry, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.

'Where does this tunnel come out?' Hermione asked breathlessly from behind him.

'I don't know,' said Harry. 'It's marked on the Marauder's Map but Fred and George said no one's ever got into it. It goes off the edge of the map, but looked like it ends up in Hogmeade ...'

They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double. Crookshanks led the way, his tail bobbing in and out of view. Harry followed, thinking of Ron, and what the enormous dog might be doing to him, and pressed on with determination. Hermione was next. Harry could hear that she, like him, was drawing in sharp breaths in painful gasps after running for so long at a crouch. Neville kept stumbling and falling behind. Eventually he told them to move on without him and that he'd catch them up, but Ron was more important.

The tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Instead, Harry could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.

He and Hermione paused, gasping for breath, edging forwards. Both raised their wands to see what lay beyond.

(POA 247-251)

Harry stared down at Black and Crookshanks, his grip tightening on the wand. So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black ... if it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn't Harry's business ... if Black wanted to save it, that only proved he cared more for Crookshanks than Harry's parents ...

Harry raised the wand. Now was the moment to do it. Now was the moment to avenge his mother and father. He was going to kill Black. He had to kill Black. This was his chance.

The seconds lengthened, and still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, crooked in his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent.

And then came a new sound -

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor - Neville had just arrived.

'WE'RE UP HERE, NEVILLE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. 'WE'RE UP HERE - SIRIUS BLACK - GET THE DEMENTORS - QUICK!'

Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; Harry gripped his wand convulsively - Do it now! said a voice in his head - but the footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harry still hadn't done it.

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as, not Neville but, Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet. 

'Expelliarmus!' Lupin shouted 

Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest. Neville follwed him timidly into the room and gasped.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn't done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the Dementors.

Then Lupin spoke, in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. 'Where is he, Sirius?'

Harry looked at Lupin. He didn't understand what Lupin meant. Who was Lupin talking about? Unless ... was Professor Black here too, having helped his brother in and out of the school grounds?

Sirius Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand, and pointed straight at Ron. Mystified, Harry glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.

'But, then ...' Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, '... why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless -' Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, '- unless he was the one ... unless you switched ... without telling me?'

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.

'Professor Lupin,' Harry interrupted loudly, 'what's going -?'

But he never finished the question, because what he saw made his voice die in his throat. Lupin was lowering his wand. Next moment, he had walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black tightly.

Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.

'I DON'T BELIEVE IT!' Hermione screamed.

Lupin let go of Sirius Black and turned to her. She raised herself off the floor, and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. 'You - you -'

'Hermione-'

'- you and him!'

'Hermione, calm down -'

'I don't tell anyone!' Hermione shrieked. 'I've been covering up for you -'

'Hermione, listen to me, please!' Lupin shouted. 'I can explain -'

Harry could feel himself shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.

'I trusted you,' he shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering out of control, 'and all the time you've been his friend!'

'You're wrong,' said Lupin. 'I haven't been Sirius' friend for twelve years, but I am now ... let me explain ...'

'NO!' Hermione screamed, 'Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too - he's a werewolf!'

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

'Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,' he said. 'Only one -'

'Expelliarmus!' Neville shouted cutting Lupin off mid sentence. Lupin fell forwards and the four wands he was holding clattered to the ground. There was a scramble to pick them up. Harry had managed to get his and Ron's, Hermione held Lupin's in her hand, whilst Black had her own wand in his possession.

'It's four against two,' said Harry, tossing Ron his wand back, whilst keeping his own focused firmly on Sirius. Neville's wand too, was pointed at Black, whilst Hermione stood over Lupin.

'Let me explain,' the professor urged from the floor. 'I promise you, I have not been helping Sirius.'

'If you haven't been helping him,' Harry said, his eyes never leaving the man who killed his parents, 'how did you know he was here?'

'The map,' said Lupin. 'The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it -'

'You know how to work it?' Harry said suspiciously.

'Of course I do,' Lupin said impatiently, 'I helped write it. I'm Moony - that was my friends' nickname for me at school.'

'You wrote -?'

'The important thing is I knew you were going down to Hagrid's this evening, so I was watching carefully in case Sirius tried to ambush you.'

He started to stand, but Hermione prodded him back to the ground with her wand. He settled himself with crossed legs.

'And lucky I did,' he continued. 'Though I wish I'd seen him sooner, I noticed that on your return to the castle you were accompanied by someone I hadn't expected.'

'What?' said Harry. 'No, we weren't!'

'I couldn't believe my eyes,' said Lupin, ignoring Harry's interruption. 'I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?'

'No one was with us!' said Harry.

'Then I saw Sirius collide with you and pull two of you into the Whomping Willow -'

'One of us!' Ron snapped angrily.

'No, Ron,' said Lupin. 'Two of you. Do you think I could have a look at that Rat?' he said evenly.

'What?' said Ron. 'What's Scabbers got to do with it?'

'Everything,' said Lupin. 'Could I see him, please?' Ron and Hermione looked at Harry who gave a short nod. He was curious as to where Lupin was going with this. 

Hermione allowed Lupin to stand and walk across to Ron, her wand fixed on him constantly, as Ron reached inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up in Black's lap and made a soft hissing noise.

Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

'What?' Ron said again, hold Scabbers close to him, looking scared. 'What's my rat got to do with anything?'

'That's not a rat,' croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

'What d'you mean - of course he's a rat -'

'No, he's not,' said Lupin quietly. 'He's a wizard.'

'An Animagus,' said Black, 'by the name of Peter Pettigrew.'


	31. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Ron voiced what Harry was thinking.

'You're both mental.'

'Ridiculous!' said Hermione faintly.

'Impossible ...' murmured Neville.

'Peter Pettigrew's dead!' said Harry. 'He killed him twelve years ago!'

He pointed at Sirius Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

'I meant to,' he growled, his yellow teeth bared, 'but little Peter got the better of me ... not this time, though!'

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.

'Sirius, NO!' Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, 'WAIT! You can't do it just like that - they need to understand - we've got to explain -'

'We can explain afterwards!' snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off, one hand still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to escape.

'They've - got - a - right - to - know - everything!' Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. 'Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand! And Harry - you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!'

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched and bleeding hands.

'All right, then,' Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. 'Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for ...'

'You're nutters, both of you,' said Ron shakily, looking around for support. 'I've had enough of this. I'm off.'

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, with a little help from Neville, but Black raised Hermione's wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

'Stay,' he said darkly.

'Sirius,' warned Lupin, 'give Hermione her wand back.' Grudgingly Sirius handed it over. 'There. Now Hermione, perhaps you could return mine, and then we can explain. Ron, keep a good tight hold of Peter, now.'

'HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!' Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, as Hermione apprehensively returned Lupin's wand. Harry turned to Lupin.

'There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die,' he said. 'A whole street full of them ...'

'They didn't see what they thought they saw!' said Black savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron's hands.

'Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,' said Lupin, nodding. 'I believed it myself - until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's Map never lies ... Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry.'

Harry looked down at Ron, and as their eyes met they agreed, silently: Black and Lupin were both out of their minds. Their story made no sense whatsoever. How could Scabbers be Peter Pettigrew? Azkaban must have unhinged Sirius Black after all - but why was Lupin playing along with him?

Then behind spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly.

'But Professor Lupin ... Scabbers can't be Pettigrew ... it just can't be true, you know it can't ...'

'Why can't it be true?' Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

'Because ... Because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagus in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework - the Ministry keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things ... and I went and looked up Professor McGonagall on the register, and there have only been seven Animagus this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list -'

Harry barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Hermione put into her homework when a voice from the door said, 'But my brother and his friends always did like to disregard the rules.'

It was Professor Black. Silently he disarmed Lupin again and pointed his wand at his brother, fire raging in his eyes. He walked into the room, standing in front of his students like a human shield.

'To the other side of the room with your crony please Remus,' he snarled.

Lupin sighed and joined Sirius Black.

'What are you doing here?' Sirius said with hatred.

'My duty. I'm apprehending a dangerous murderer and his accomplice,' Professor Black said. He threw a flask at Lupin. 'Drink this immediately, wolfman.'

'Of course!' said Lupin. 'My Wolfsbane Potion. How foolish of me to forget it!' He swallowed the liquid in one. 'Thank you Regulus. Now, I assure you, your brother is not a murderer -'

'I heard you little theory,' snapped Professor Black. 'Explain youself immediately. But be warned, I'm not liable to like what I hear.'

Lupin took a deep breath, then began to tell his story.

'The whole story begins with my becoming a werewolf. I was a very small bit when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. This Potion,' he said, addressing Harry and his friends, 'is a very recent discovery, you see. As long as I take it in the week proceeding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform ... I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moonto wane again.

'Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.

'But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that, as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school ... The Whomping Willow was planted because I had come to Hogwarts. This house -' Lupin looked miserably around the room '& the tunnel that leads to it - they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out if the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous.'

Harry couldn't see where this story was going, but he was listening raptly all the same. In fact, the only people in the room, not focusing on Lupin were the Black Brothers who's eyes were locked in distrust. The only sound apart from Lupin's voice was Scabbers's frightened squeaking.

'My transformations those days were - were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screening and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumour ... even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it ...

'But, apart from my transformations, I was happy than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black ... Peter Pettigrew ... and, of course, your father, Harry - James Potter.

'Get on with it, Remus,' Professor Black interrupted. 'We don't need to relive your glory days. We all know the four of you pranced around, pretending to own the place.'

'Yes, well,' Lupin continued, 'my three friends, being as close as we were could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her ... I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But if course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth ...

'And they didn't desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.'

'My dad, too?' said Harry, astounded.

'Yes, indeed,' said Lupin. 'It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong - one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needs all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will.'

Professor Black started to laugh. A cold, hollow laugh. 'Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prongs. I always wondered where you plucked those names from, but all makes sense now.'

'Yes, well, under their influence as animals I became less dangerous,' said Lupin. 'My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them.'

'And when Dumbledore offered you the position here,' said Professor Black, 'You leapt at the chance to help your old chum finish what he'd started twelve years ago.'

'Actually Regulus, Dumbledore felt that having escaped from Azkaban, not only might Sirius attempt to murder Harry, but he may also come after me as the remaining member of our group. We both felt Hogwarts would be the safest place for me, and I could help protect Harry. In all honesty Regulus I feared you may have been the one who helped him escape.'

'The day they locked up my traitorous brother was the greatest day of my life,' Regulus spat.

'You were no saint yourself, Reggie,' snarled Sirius.

'I HAVE ATONED FOR WHAT I DID!' Professor Black screamed. 'THIS TIME I'LL MAKE SURE YOU GET THE KISS!'

'The kiss?' said Harry in confusion.

'The Dementor's Kiss,' said Neville. 'They suck your soul out and leave you a hollow shell. It's a fare worse than death.'

'We can prove Sirius is innocent, Regulus,' said Lupin. 'Look at the rat. If he doesn't transform into Peter I'll take Sirius to the Dementors myself.'


	32. The Servant of Lord Voldemort

Everyone was looking at Ron now.

Professor Black had outstretched his hand.

'Give me the rat, Mr Weasley,' he said with a menacing calm. 'I assure you that if Scabbers is not an Animagus then he will come to no harm.'

Ron hesitated for a moment, before he passed Scabbers to the Potions Master.

'Before I do this,' Professor Black said as Scabbers tryed to writhe free of his grip. 'Tell me why you're so sure this particular rat is Pettigrew. How did you find out he was here at Hogwarts?'

Sirius put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others.

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

'How did you get this?' Lupin asked, thunderstruck.

'Fudge,' said Sirius Black. 'When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page ... on this boy's shoulder ... I knew him at once ... how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts ... to where Harry was ...'

'My God,' said Lupin softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. 'His front paw ...'

'What about it?' said Ron defiantly.

'He's got a toe missing,' said Sirius Black.

'Of course,' Lupin breathed, 'so simple ... so brilliant ... He cut if off himself?'

'Just before he transformed,' said Sirius. 'When u cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself - and sped down the sewer with the other rats.'

'Enough!' said Professor Black. 'Let's just find out if your fantasy is reality, shall we?' He held his wand to Scabbers and a flash of blue-white light erupted from it; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in mid-air, his small black form twisting madly - Ron yelled - the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then -

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upwards from the ground; limbs were sprouting; next moment, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed, the hair on his bag standing up.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry, Hermione or Neville. His thin, colourless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who had lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose, his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

'Well I never ...' gasped Professor Black.

'Hello, Peter,' said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old schoolfriends around him. 'Long time, no see.'

'S-Sirius ... R-Remus ...' Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again his eyes darted towards the door. 'My friends ... my old friends ...'

Sirius's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.

'We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. Perhaps you could help us clear up some details.'

'He tried to kill me, Remus,' gasped Pettigrew, and Harry could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face. 'He killed James and Lily and now he wants for kill me too! He was their Secret-Keeper, you know. He's the only person who could have told He Who Must Not Be Named where to find them!'

'He makes a good point there, Sirius,' said Professor Black. 'By all accounts, you were their Secret-Keeper.'

'We swapped.' said Sirius. 'Everyone would assume I would be the Secret-Keeper so I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter. We told no one, not even Dumbledore. Not even Remus.'

'It makes sense, Regulus,' said Lupin. 'It's what I'd have done in that situation.'

Pettigrew continued to look wildly around the room. 'It's not true! Remus, you and I both know James trusted Sirius the most ... Why would they make me the Secret-Keeper?'

'I think,' said Professor Black, 'A more pressing question at this time would be, why would you hide yourself as a rat for twelve years, if you were an innocent man?'

'I knew he'd be coming for me!' Pettigrew squeaked. 'I knew he'd come back to try and kill me.'

'You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?' said Lupin, his brow furrowed. 'When nobody had ever done it before?'

'He's got Dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!' Pettigrew shouted shrilly. 'How else did he get out of there? I suppose He Who Must Not Be Named taught him a few tricks.'

Sirius Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

'Voldemort, teach me tricks?' he said.

Pettigrew flinched as though Sirius had brandished a whip at him.

'What, scared to hear your old master's name?' said Sirius. 'I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?'

'Don't know - what you mean, Sirius -' muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

'You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years,' said Sirius Black. 'You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter ... they all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them ... I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information ... and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error if their ways ... In fact, I'm surprised my brother -'

'You're Arimanius,' Professor Black interrupted. 'It all makes sense now.'

'Don't know ... what you're talking about ...' said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Lupin. 'You don't believe this - this is madness, Remus -'

'I have to admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat,' said Lupin evenly.

'Innocent, but scared!' squealed Pettigrew. 'If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban - the spy, Sirius Black!'

Sirius's face contorted.

'How dare you,' he growled, suddenly sounding like the bear-sized dog he had been. 'I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter - I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us ... me and Remus ... and James ...'

Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

'Me, a spy ... must be out of your mind ... never ... don't know how you can say such a -'

'Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it,' Sirius hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backwards. 'I thought it was a perfect plan ... a bluff ... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you ... it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.'

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; Harry caught words like 'far-fetched' and 'lunacy', but he couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen colour of Pettigrew's face, and the way his eyes continued to dart towards the windows and door.

'Can - can I say something?' said Hermione timidly.

'Certainly, Hermione,' said Lupin courteously.

'Well - Scabbers - I mean, this - this man - he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You Know Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?'

'There!' said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Hermione with his maimed hand. 'Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?'

'I'll tell you why,' said Sirius. 'Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for twelve years, they say he's half-dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest Billy in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him ...'

Pettigrew opened his mouth, and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

'Er - Mr Black - Sirius?' said Hermione timidly.

Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though being spoken to politely was something he'd long forgotten.

'If you don't mind me asking, how - how did you get out of Azkaban if you didn't use Dark Magic?'

'Thank you!' gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. 'Exactly! Precisely what I -'

But Lupin silenced him with a look. Sirius was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he was annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.

'I don't know how I did it,' he said slowly. 'I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me ... but it kept me sane and knowing who I am ... helped me keep my powers ... so when it all became ... too much ... I could transform in my cell ... become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know ...' He swallowed. 'They feel their way towards people by sensing their emotions ... they could tell that my feelings were less - less human, less complex as a dog ... but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in thefe., So it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving then away from me without a wand ...

'But then I saw Peter in that picture ... I realised he was at Hogwarts with Harry ... perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again ...'

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Sirius Black as though hypnotised.

'... ready to strike the moment he could be sure of allies ... to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honours ...

'So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive ...'

Harry remembered what Mr Weasley had told Mrs Weasley. 'The guards say he's been talking in his sleep ... always the same words ... "He's at Hogwarts".'

'It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it ... it wasn't a happy feeling ... it was an obsession ... but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food,I slipped past them as a dog ... it's so much harder for then to sense animal emotions that they were confused ... I was thinking ... thin enough to sleep through the bars ... I swam as a dog beach to the mainland ... I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog ... I've been living in the Forest ever since ... except when I come to watch you play Quidditch, of course ... you fly as well as your father did, Harry ...'

He looked at Harry, who did not look away.

'He's better than his father,' said Professor Black. 'James only played for the glory. Harry plays with passion.'

'Believe me,' Sirius croaked, ignoring his brother's interjection. 'Believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them.'

And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.

'No!'

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, grovelling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

'Sirius - it's me ... it's Peter ... your friend ... you wouldn't ...'

Sirius kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

'There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them,' said Sirius.

'Remus!' Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. 'You don't believe this ... Wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?'

'Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter,' said Lupin. 'I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?' he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

'Forgive me, Remus,' said Sirius.

'Not at all, Padfoot, old friend,' said Lupin. 'And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?'

'Of course,' said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face.

'Would you like to do the honours?' Lupin asked, passing his wand to Sirius.

'I would love to,' said Sirius 

'You wouldn't ... you won't ...' gasped Pettigrew. And he scrambled around to Ron.

'Ron ... haven't I been a good friend ... a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you ... your on my side, aren't you?'

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

'I let you sleep in my bed!' he said.

'Kind boy ... kind master ...' Pettigrew crawled towards Ron, 'you won't let them do it ... I was your rat ... I was a good pet ...'

'If you made a better rat than human, it's not much to brag about, Peter,' said Sirius harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forwards and seized the hen of Hermione's robes.

'Sweet girl ... clever girl ... you - you won't let them ... help me ...'

Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly to Neville.

'Please ... I'm just like you ... the weak friend ... the one people tolerate ... the one no one really likes ... the one who they'll turn on when they have the chance to ...'

'Don't speak to Neville like that!' said Harry. 'He's our friend and would never betray us. Nor would we betray him.'

'Harry ... Harry ...' Pettigrew said shakily, turning himself to face Harry. 'You look just like your father ... just like him ...'

'HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?' roared Sirius. 'HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?'

'Harry,' whispered Pettigrew, Shuffling towards him, hands outstretched, 'Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed ... James would have understood, Harry ... he would have shown me mercy ...'

Both Sirius and Lupin strode forwards, seized Pettigrew's shoulders and threw him backwards onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

'You sold Lily and James to Voldemort,' said Sirius, who was shaking too. 'Do you deny it?'

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch: he looked like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

'Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord ... you have no idea ... he has weapons you can't imagine ... I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James ... But your brother won't let me die, will you Regulus.'

Professor Black had kept silent for a long time now, as if processing all the information he had heard. But now all eyes were on him. Pettigrew's were pleading, but Harry noticed both Lupin and Sirius were looking with suspicion.

'No,' he said. 'I won't let my brother kill you. Instead we will take you to be given the trial Sirius was denied. And then you will live out the rest of your days in Azkaban, thinking of all the pain you've caused. Does anyone object to this?'

'No,' said Harry. 'If anyone deserves Azkaban, it's him ...'

'Very well,' said Lupin, taking his wand back from Sirius. 'Stand aside, Harry.'

Harry hesitated.

'I'm going to tie him up,' said Lupin. 'That's all, I swear.'

Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Lupin's wand, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.

'But if you transform, Peter,' growled Sirius, 'we will kill you. You agree, Harry?'

Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor, and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.

'I see you've not lost your sense of the dramatic, Sirius,' said Professor Black.

'Right,' said Lupin, suddenly business-like. 'Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing.'

He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand and muttered, 'Ferula.' Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupinhelped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

'That's better,' he said. 'Thanks.'

'Remus, it's a full moon out,' said Professor Black. 'You've drank the Wolfsbane Potion so you'll be harmless but I think it's better you let my brother hold onto your wand in case Peter tries any funny business.'

'Ah, a sensible idea, Regulus,' said Lupin handing over his wand.

'And two of us should be chained to this,' said Sirius, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. 'Just to make sure.'

'I'll do it,' said Neville.

'And me,' said Ron savagely, limping forwards.

Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air, soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Neville's right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottle-brush tail held jauntily high.


	33. The Dementors Attack

Harry had never been party of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; Neville, Pettigrew and Ron went next, looking like contestants in a six-legged race. The Black Brothers were next, keeping their wands pointed at Pettigrew in case he tried to escape. Then came Harry and Hermione, closely followed by Lupin.

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Neville, Pettigrew and Ron had to turn sideways to manage it. Harry could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Neither of the Black Brothers seemed to trust the other to be behind them, even though, as far as Harry could see, they were both on the same side. Eventually Professor Black conceded to go first so they didn't waste any more time. Harry followed Sirius directly.

'You know what this means?' Sirius said abruptly to Harry, as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. 'Turning Pettigrew in?'

'You're free,' said Harry.

'Yes ...' said Sirius. 'But I'm also - I don't know if anyone ever told you - I'm your godfather.'

'Yeah, I knew that,' said Harry..  
'Well ... Your parents appointed me your guardian,' said Sirius stiffly. 'If anything happened to them ...'

Harry waited. Did Sirius mean what he thought he meant?

'I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,' said Sirius. 'But ... well ... think about it. Once my name's cleared ... if you wanted a ... a different home ...'

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.

'What - live with you?' he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of Rock protruding from the ceiling. 'Leave the Dursleys?'

'Of course, I though you wouldn't want to,' said Sirius quickly. 'I understand. I just thought I'd -'

'Are you mad?' said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Sirius'. 'Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?'

'Now, now, you two,' came Professor Black's voice from down the tunnel, 'don't start getting ahead of yourselves. There's a lot to be done before any of these discussions can take place.'

'Reggie, I'm the oldest, don't forget,' said Sirius. 'So you'll have to do as I say now you know I'm innocent.'

'All I'm saying,' Professor Black sighed, 'is let's talk with Dumbledore first to figure what is best for you, and for Harry.'

'I think me leaving the Dursleys will be best for everyone,' said Harry. 'I'm not sure they'll be too fond of me after I blew up my aunt last summer!'

Sirius roared with laughter, a great warm laugh. 'Oh, I would have loved to have seen that!'

'And unfortunately,' said Professor Black, 'that is exactly the reason you may not be the best choice of guardian for Mr Potter. You're not 15 anymore, Sirius. And Harry is not a substitute for James.'

'Oh, do be quiet, Regulus,' said Sirius. 'Don't pretend to be a saint, now. We all know what you've done. In all honesty, I don't even know how you got a job here with your history. I'd call you treacherous, but you never pretended to be anything but a Pure Blood fanatic, did you?'

'That's enough, Sirius,' said Lupin firmly. 'Now is not the time to have a family spat. Just know that Dumbledore trusts Regulus, and so do I for that matter. A lot can change in twelve years. There are things you don't know, and things these students don't need to know.'

No one spoke again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Neville, Pettigrew and Ron clambered upwards without any sound of savaging branches. Professor Black kept quickly on their tail. Harry followed Sirius out, then came Hermione and Lupin.

The grounds were very dark now, the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was wheezing and whimpering. Harry's mind was buzzing. Sirius, his parents' best friend, wanted Harry to come and live with him ... he felt dazed ... What would happen when he told the Dursleys he was going to live with the convict they'd seen on the television! But what had that discussion between the two Blacks been about. What secrets was Professor Black hiding?

'One thing I don't understand, Professor Black,' Hermione wondered out loud, 'how did you know where to find us?'

'Well, Miss Granger,' said Professor Black, 'When I realised Professor Lupin had not been for his Wolfsbane Potion I decided to take it over to him in his office. Imagine my surprise, and concern, when I got there and found it to be empty. However on the desk was the map, still open and active. With one glance I saw Professor Lupin running down a secret tunnel. It was then that I came to the conclusion that my suspicious were correct. That it was you who had helped my brother escape and we're helping him in to Hogwarts. Please accept my apologies.'

'Completely understandable, Regulus,' said Lupin happily. 'In all honesty part of the reason I took this job was to -'

Suddenly Lupin went silent. A cloud had shifted and the party were bathed in moonlight. Lupin's silhouette was outlined. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

'Stand back everyone,' said Professor Black. 'It's best that we give him some space.'

There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's fur was on end again, he was backing away -

The werewolf reared and let out a long, musical howl.

The he looked at his companions and cocked his head towards the castle, as if to say, 'come on, let's keep going.'

'Well, there you go kids,' said Sirius. 'You never forget your first werewolf transformation. Though I have to say, I never got the honour of seeing him so docile.'

Sirius then reached up to scratch Lupin behind the ears, but Lupin batted his arm away with a large hairy paw.

Harry wanted to laugh, but all of a sudden he felt a chill in the balmy night air.

'Dementors,' Sirius hissed.

'They must have heard Remus howl and come to investigate. And I suppose eight of us roaming the grounds at night is a meal they can't pass up on. Harry, start thinking right now about the happiest thoughts you can. After seeing what Professor Lupin did with you in a week I have great faith in your ability to cast a Patronus. Everyone else just think happy thoughts, and join us if you can.'

Suddenly the Dementors were upon them. There were at least a hundred, in a black mass, making their way across the grounds. Harry spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness in every side; they were encircling them. Lupin was wimpering in his werewolf form. Neville and Ron had frozen with fear and Pettigrew seemed to have fainted.

Harry could hear Professor Black casting his spell and he saw a silvery substance shoot out of his wand. He blinked furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it -

_I'm going to live with my godfather. I'm leaving the Dursleys. ___

__Sirius had collapsed to the floor, pale as death._ _

___He'll be all right. I'm going to go and live with him._ _ _

___'Expecto patronum! Hermione, help us! Expecto patronum!'_ _ _

___'Expecto -' Hermione whispered, 'expecto - expecto -'_ _ _

___But she couldn't do it. The Dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. Professor Black had faith in his ability, he couldn't let him down ..._ _ _

___Harry thought back to his elation at winning the Quidditch Cup ... he remembered when Hagrid had returned after his spell in Azkaban ... he brought back the feeling of joy he felt when he first entered the Wizarding world almost four years ago._ _ _

___'EXPECTO PATRONUM!' Harry yelled, blotting the screaming from his ears. 'EXPECTO PATRONUM!'_ _ _

___And out of his wand burst, not a shapeless cloud, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. He screwed up his eyes, trying to see what it was. It looked like a horse. It was galloping silently away from him, lowering its head and charging at the swarming Dementors ... now it was galloping around the party, and Dementors we're falling back, scattering, retresting into the darkness ... They were gone._ _ _

___The Patronus turned. It was cantering back towards Harry. It wasn't a horse. It wasn't a unicorn either. It was a stag. It was shining brightly as the moon above ..._ _ _

___It stopped a few feet away from Harry and stared at him with large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bowed its antlered head. And Harry realised ..._ _ _

___'Prongs,' he whispered._ _ _

___But as his trembling fingertips stretched towards the creature, it vanished._ _ _

___'Well done, Harry,' Professor Black said, as the werewolf patted Harry on the back as if Lupin was congratulating him. 'You should be proud of yourself. Not many wizards can form a corporeal Patronus, myself included. It's always been the one thing I've struggled with.'_ _ _

___Harry noticed a sadness in his eyes, but didn't press. They looked at the rest of the party. Sirius was out cold, the Dementors had drained him. Neville and Pettigrew were also out for the count. Hermione was shaking, but still conscious._ _ _

___'The Dementors won't return any time soon, after that,' Professor Black said. 'I think the best course of action would be to untie Mr Longbottom and Mr Weasley and leave them here with my brother under your watch, Remus until we can our colleagues to help us out. You can always howl if danger approaches._ _ _

___'Miss Granger, Mr Potter, you two will take the place of your friends either side of Pettigrew. I will remain free as if he wakes up and tries to escape I'll be at the best advantage and skill level to stop him.'_ _ _

___They all agreed that this was the best course of action - Lupin with an affirmative growl and an nod of his head - and Harry and Hermione soon had Pettigrew between them and, along with Professor Black behind them, were making their way to the castle once more._ _ _

___They walked all the way to Dumbledore's office - 'rhubarb and custards' was the current password - and knocked._ _ _


	34. Black vs Fudge

Dumbledore answered almost immediately. Despite the late hour he was fully dressed.

'Welcome,' he said simply, 'come in, come in, we have much to discuss.'

They followed Dumbledore into his office, Professor Black looking as puzzled as Harry felt, as Dumbledore handed them each a bar of chocolate. Harry saw Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, sleeping on his perch. He was little bigger than a apple, his feathers all fluffy. He must have recently had a burning day.

'Don't worry about the others,' said Dumbledore. 'Professor McGonagall and Hagrid are with them now, taking them to Madam Pomfrey as we speak. I think we should disperse of these ties, don't you? It hardly looks like Peter is going to escape and the soon.'

With a wave of his wand Dumbledore freed Pettigrew and moved him over to a sofa he had conjured out of thin air. Harry noticed that he didn't seemed fazed at all that Pettigrew was alive. And how could he have known that Ron, Neville and Sirius needed help?

'Miss Granger,' Dumbledore continued. 'I think it best if the Minister of Magic were here to help us. He's staying in Hogsmeade tonight, checking their security as well. I would suggest one turn would give us plenty of time to get him here.'

Harry had no idea what the Headmaster was talking about when he said one turn. It seemed to be a code of some kind, that only he and Hermione understood. Harry noticed Pettigrew twitching on the sofa.

'What should I tell you?' Hermione asked. 

'I think that under the circumstances, the truth will suffice,' said Dumbledore

Hermione pulled a tiny sparkling hour-glass from out of her cloak, attached to a very fine chain around her neck. She turned it over and suddenly vanished.

Dumbledore turned to Harry and said, 'A Time Turner, Harry. Hermione is still in my office, but she is now there exactly one hour ago. Didn't you ever wonder how she was managing to get to all her classes this year?'

'Well ... yeah ...' said Harry. 'But I never imagined ...'

'They are rare and dangerous things, Time Turners,' said Dumbledore, walking over to a door which Harry imagined led to his living quarters, as Pettigrew rolled on the sofa. Had he been conscious Harry would have thought he was listening in on their conversation, but there was no way he could have recovered from the Dementor attack. 'But for such an exceptional student such as Miss Granger, we thought it only right we let her achieve her academic potential.'

Dumbledore opened the door and in came Cornelius Fudge, and a blushing Hermione.

'Well I never!' said Fudge, walking straight towards Pettigrew. 'I don't believe it! Peter Pettigrew is alive!'

'Yes, Minister, and the traitor I'm afraid,' said Professor Black. 'We condemned an innocent man when my brother was put behind bars twelve years ago.'

'I'm not so sure, Regulus. Miss Granger informs that you found your brother tonight. Are you sure he didn't confound you?' said Fudge. 'He is a very powerful, dark wizard, after all.'

'I can assure you my brother is not that powerful, and he's a good man,' said Professor Black. 'Besides, you well know I'm a world class Occlumens, or do I need to remind you of my role in the war?'

Fudge nodded and said, 'No, no, you're quite right. But why didn't he fight the charges?'

'You'll have to ask him that yourself when he comes round,' said Professor Black. 'But knowing my brother, I assume it had something to do with his pride. An atonement perhaps for what happened to the Potters.'

'The love we have for others can indeed lead us to make foolish choices,' Dumbledore said sadly.

'Quite right ... quite right,' said Fudge. 'Well, firstly we will have to revoke Peter's Order of Merlin, and I suppose giving one to your brother, Regulus, is the least we can do. The only thing to do know is get the Dementors here to give Peter their Kiss.'

'No,' said Harry. 'We all agreed he needs to be tried. People need to know you have the right man this time.'

'That's very admirable Harry, but this man is a dangerous criminal, he must be made an example of,' said Fudge. He walked over the the office door to leave, before turning to face Hermione. 'Oh and Miss Granger, as all your exams for this year are over, I think I'll take the Time Turner back to the Ministry tonight, thank you.' He outstretched his arm so Hermione could hand over the device. 

She pulled it out of her robes and held it out.

'Promise you'll give him a trial,' she said, her voice level as she looked Fudge in the eyes. Pettigrew twitched again.

'Miss Granger,' said Fudge. 'One thing you do not want to do is threaten the Minister of Magic. If you wish to remain at Hogwarts I suggest you hand over that Time Turner immediately.'

Hermione hesitated, but loosened her grip. That was when Pettigrew struck.

He jumped off the sofa pushing Hermione to the ground and taking possession of the Time Turner. Dumbledore reached in his robes for his wand but Pettigrew already had the chain loosely hanging around his neck. Harry dived at him as he turned the Time Turner and somehow he managed to slip his head beneath the chain as he wrestled Pettigrew to the ground. Suddenly they were alone, and a sunset was streaming through the window, despite that fact that it had the middle of the night a moment before.

Pettigrew pushed Harry away and the chain broke. The Time Turner dropped to the floor and the hour-glass smashed. A golden light exploded from it and the two of them were momentarily joined by ghostly shapes of past wizards. Harry reached for his wand.

'Expelli-' he began before Pettigrew knocked him to the ground. They scrambled for the wand and Pettigrew won.

'Crucio!' he yelled.

It was a pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end ... to black out ... to die ...

And then it was gone.

Harry panted for his breath to return.

Pettigrew stood over him.

'Don't worry,' he said, 'I'm not going to kill you. I wouldn't want to deprive the Dark Lord of that pleasure.' He seemed suddenly more confident as he raised Harry's wand and said 'Petrificus totalus.'

Harry's whole body went instantly rigid. Pettigrew dragged him to a cupboard and pushed him inside. Pettigrew threw the remnants of the Time Turner to the bottom of the cupboard.

'This is, unfortunately, useless now,' he said as he closed the door on Harry. 'But I don't want Dumbledore finding it and realising what happened here, do I?'

Harry could still see Pettigrew through the gap in the cupboard doors, and watched as he opened the office door, leaving it ajar just enough so that a small animal could make it's way through. He raised Harry's wand high and then transformed himself into a rat again. Harry saw as Pettigrew picked up his wand in his ratty mouth and hid it in a corner of Dumbledore's office. And then Harry knew he was alone.

After an age Dumbledore returned with Hermione and Fudge following. Neither Dumbledore or Hermione noticed that the door was not closed as it had been when they'd left the office.

Harry tried to scream to attract their attention, but to no avail.

Dumbledore was telling Fudge and Hermione to hide and a few minutes later there was a knock on the office door. In walked the younger Harry with Hermione, Pettigrew and Professor Black.

Harry watched as Hermione travelled back in time. He watched as Fudge and Hermione rejoined the group and as they all discussed Pettigrew. Though Harry tried to move he was totally petrified and useless. He could not move a muscle nor could he make a sound. Pettigrew was going to escape, just as Professor Trelawney had predicted that afternoon. It seemed so long ago now that he was in her classroom listening as she made a real prediction.

Suddenly everyone was shouting his name. His younger self and Pettigrew had disappeared, and the sofa had been flung across the office after being hit by Dumbledore's spell that came a moment too late.

'Harry!' Hermione called out before bursting into tears.

'Dammit, Pettigrew's escaped!' shouted Fudge.

'And taken a student with him!' Professor Black yelled.

'If you had just given me the Time Turner, Miss Granger none of this would have happened,' said Fudge bitterly.

'Don't you dare talk to Miss Granger like that again!' warned Professor Black.

'Don't _you_ dare talk to _me_ like that ever again, Black!' said Fudge.

____'Enough!' said Dumbledore. He didn't raise his voice, but there was such severity in his voice that the two men jumped. 'Harry Potter is missing, now is not the time to bicker. We must find him. But first, Regulus, perhaps you could take Miss Granger to the hospital wing so she can be with her friends at this time.'_ _ _ _

____Black took Hermione by the shoulders and steered her to the door._ _ _ _

____'And tell your brother we'll be setting a date for a trial to prove his innocence,' said Fudge. 'He'll hear from us in due course.'_ _ _ _

____Professor Black stopped in his tracks, turned suddenly, with his wand in hand. Red sparks flew from it and Fudge himself flew across the office, crashing into the very cupboard Harry was hidden in. Harry came tumbling out with a thump._ _ _ _

____'HARRY!' screeched Hermione racing over to him. 'Thank goodness you're alright!' Harry saw Dumbledore wave his wand and suddenly he could move again. He took in a deep breath and sat up._ _ _ _

____Fudge picked himself up from off the floor and dusted himself down. 'Pettigrew?' he asked bitterly, taking Harry by the shoulders._ _ _ _

____'Gone,' said Harry. 'He petrified me, turned into a rat and ran away. We've got to go after him! He's going to find Voldemort!'_ _ _ _

____Fudge recoiled at the name and Dumbledore said, 'Harry, calm down. There is nothing we can do right now. Peter will be long gone, and the night is dark. I doubt even the Dementors could sense him in his rat form.'_ _ _ _

____'The Daily Prophet's going to have a field day with this one,' puffed Fudge. 'We had Pettigrew cornered and he escaped justice yet again! I'm going to be a laughing stock! Dumbledore, I'm going to notify the Ministry. Regulus, under the circumstances I will ignore your little outburst just then, but never let it happen again.' Fudge replaced his bowler hat and finally left the office._ _ _ _

____'You two get yourselves to the hospital wing,' Dumbledore said, 'I'd like a word alone with Harry.' Hermione and a Professor Black did as instructed and Harry and Dumbledore remained alone._ _ _ _

____'Don't blame yourself for Peter Pettigrew's escape, Harry. You took action when no one else did, you were just very unfortunate. And yet, incredibly lucky to be still alive.'_ _ _ _

____'He said he wanted to save me for Voldemort,' said Harry._ _ _ _

____'Well I don't think we need to worry about Voldemort returning any time soon, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'All the information I currently have indicates that though is still alive, he's barely a man, hiding far away from Hogwarts. I promise you, you are safe under my watch.'_ _ _ _

____'But it's my fault,' said Harry. 'I should have let Sirius and Lupin kill him like they wanted to.'_ _ _ _

____'No, Harry, you shouldn't have. That is too much weight for anyone to bear. Harry, we don't know what tomorrow holds, let alone next week, next month, and especially not next year. Focus on the now, the consequences of our actions are so diverse, so complicated, predicting their outcome, predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed ... Our dear Professor Trelawney, bless her, is living proof of that. You did a very noble thing, letting Pettigrew live.'_ _ _ _

____Trelawney! Harry remembered her prediction._ _ _ _

____'Professor Dumbledore - when I had my exam this afternoon with Professor Trelawney, she went very strange,' he said._ _ _ _

____'Indeed?' said Dumbledore. 'Er - stranger than usual, you mean?'_ _ _ _

____'Yes ... Her voice went all deep and her eyes rolled and she said ... she said Voldemort's servant was going to return to him before midnight ... she said that the servant would help bring him back to power.' Harry stared up at Dumbledore. 'And then she became normal again, and she couldn't remember anything she'd said. Was it - was she making a real prediction?'_ _ _ _

____Dumbledore looked mildly impressed._ _ _ _

____'Do you know Harry, I think she might have been,' he said thoughtfully. 'Who'd have thought it? That brings her total of real predictions up to two. I should offer her a pay rise. But now Harry, it's time for bed, I think. You should go and visit Madam Pomfrey, let her check you over.'_ _ _ _

____Harry stood, picked up his wand where Pettigrew had hidden it and opened the office door._ _ _ _

____'Oh, and Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'I think for the time being it best you stay with the Dursleys. After all Sirius has been in Azkaban for twelve years. I think he needs a little time to rest and recover, don't you? Maybe next summer.'_ _ _ _

Harry didn't even bother to ask how Dumbledore knew about Sirius's offer, nor did he try to argue, despite the sadness he felt of having to go back to Privet Drive.

____*_ _ _ _

____Harry woke up the next morning in the hospital wing, to find the Sirius and Lupin sat beside him._ _ _ _

____'Morning Harry,' Sirius smiled. 'How are you feeling?' 'Sore,' Harry admitted. Sirius smiled again. 'Thank you,' he said, 'I have a life now because of you.' Harry smiled back. 'Unfortunately we have to go now, but I promise this isn't good-bye. I will see you over the summer.'_ _ _ _

____'But you can't go!' said Harry. 'I'm only just getting to know you. And Professor Lupin - you're a teacher you have to stay until the end of term! '_ _ _ _

____'I'm always I've already handed in my resignation,' said Lupin 'But you're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had!' 'Thats kind of you to say so, Harry, but I can't risk forgetting to take my Potion around students. What if someone had gotten hurt last night? Besides, someone needs to look after Padfoot over here.'_ _ _ _

____'But before we go, there's something Moony wants to give you,' said Sirius. 'Your dad would want you to have it, and as your godfather, I certainly do. The rat doesn't get a say anymore, so even if Moony didn't want to pass it on, he'd be outvoted anyway.'_ _ _ _

____Lupin passed Harry the Marauder's Map and said, 'However, as I'm no longer your teacher I don't feel an ounce of guilt passing it down to you. I daresay you'll find uses for it, but don't let Professor Black know you've got it! He told me about your Patronus by the way. Well done, I'm proud of you.'_ _ _ _

____'It was a stag,' said Harry. 'I assumed that my father ... was a stag when he transformed ...'_ _ _ _

____'Well deduced,' said Lupin._ _ _ _

____'That's why we called him Prongs,' said Sirius with a grin. He didn't seem to be able to stop grinning._ _ _ _

'How's the Firebolt, by the way?' asked Sirius.

'That was you?' said Harry, surprised. 'It's amazing!'

'Well I couldn't let any son of James Potter race around on a Cleansweep Seven now, could I? I gave Hermione's cat the money and a note and sent him into Quality Quidditch Supplies. He's a smart beast.'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Crookshanks seemed to recognise Scabbers for what he was from the beginning.'

'He did indeed,' said Sirius. 'He's actually the one who's been helping me get around the castle. He even stole the passwords so I could get into Gryffindor Tower.'

____'Sorry to interrupt,' came a voice. It was Professor Black. 'Your carriage awaits you at the gates, gentlemen.'_ _ _ _

____Sirius and Lupin stood up._ _ _ _

____'Thanks, Reggie. See you soon, Harry,' said Sirius, ruffling Harry's already messy hair._ _ _ _

____'Bye Harry,' Lupin smiled._ _ _ _

____The two of them followed Professor Black out of the hospital wing, leaving Harry alone, with Ron, Hermione and Neville still sleeping in beds around him._ _ _ _

*

____By the time the four of them left the hospital wing at midday, the whole castle had heard the truth about Sirius Black. The next day it was all over the Daily Prophet (with a surprisingly accurate artist's depiction of Peter Pettigrew)._ _ _ _

____Despite the danger he still posed, after their attempted attack the night Pettigrew escaped, the Dementors had been ordered off of school grounds, and out of Hogsmeade._ _ _ _

____And everyone seemed to know that Lupin was a werewolf now. Despite this, Harry was not the only one who was sad to see him leave._ _ _ _

____'Wonder what they'll give us next year?' said Seamus Finnegan gloomily._ _ _ _

____'Maybe a vampire,' suggested Dean Thomas hopefully._ _ _ _

____It wasn't only Professor Lupin's departure that was weighing on Harry's mind. He couldn't help thinking a lot about Professor Trelawney's prediction. He kept wondering where Pettigrew was now, whether he had sought sanctuary with Voldemort yet. But the thing that was lowering Harry's spirits the most of all was the prospect of returning to the Dursleys. At least he had the promise of visiting Sirius over the summer holidays, so he had that to look forward to_ _ _ _

____The exam results came on the last day of term. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville had passed every subject. Percy, meanwhile, had got his top-grade N.E.W.Ts while Fred and George had scraped a handful of O.W.Ls each. Gryffindor house, largely thanks to their spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, had won the House Championship for the third year running. This meant the end-of-term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everyone celebrated. Even Harry managed to forget about the journey back to the Dursleys the next day as he ate, drank, talked and laughed with the rest._ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station next morning, Hermione gave Harry, Ron and Neville some surprising news._ _ _ _

____'I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies.'_ _ _ _

____'But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty per cent!' said Ron._ _ _ _

____'I know, but I can't stand another year like this one. By dropping this and Divination I'll be able to have a normal timetable again. Besides Pettigrew broke the Time Turner, so we won't need to apply for another one of them.'_ _ _ _

____'I still can't believe you didn't tell us about it,' said Ron grumpily. 'We're supposed to be your friends.'_ _ _ _

____'I promised I wasn't going to tell anyone,' said Hermione severely. She looked around at Harry, who watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain. Two whole months before he'd see it again ..._ _ _ _

____'Oh, cheer up, Harry!' said Hermione sadly._ _ _ _

____'I'm OK,' said Harry quickly. 'Just thinking about the holidays.'_ _ _ _

____'Yeah, I've been thinking about them, too,' said Ron. 'Harry, you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now -'_ _ _ _

____'A telephone, Ron,' said Hermione. 'Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year ...'_ _ _ _

____Ron ignored her._ _ _ _

____'It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work.'_ _ _ _

____This proposal had the effect of cheering Harry up greatly._ _ _ _

____'Yeah ... I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come ... especially after what I did to Aunt Marge ...'_ _ _ _

____Feeling considerably more cheerful, Harry joined Ron, Hermione and Neville in several games of Exploding Snap, and when the witch with the tea trolley arrived, he brought himself a very large lunch, though nothing with chocolate in it. Finally they arrived at King's Cross station in high spirits._ _ _ _

____'You two go on ahead,' Harry said to Ron and Hermione. He'd been trying to find time to talk to Neville about what had happened in Dumbledore's office, and took him aside at the station._ _ _ _

____'Pettigrew put me under the Cruciatus Curse,' he told Neville. 'It was horrible, but brief. I can't imagine how it must have been for your parents. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.' Neville looked at the floor, unsure of what to say._ _ _ _

____'Listen, I meant what I said in the Shrieking Shack. You're one of us. If you need anything, just ask and I promise we'll be there for you.'_ _ _ _

____Neville smiled and sniffed, 'Thanks.'_ _ _ _

____The two of them walked through the barrier together. They waved their good-byes to Hermione and the Weasleys, Neville went with his Grandmother and Harry found the Dursleys._ _ _ _

____He couldn't wait to tell them about his godfather._ _ _ _


	35. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire: The Riddle House and The Scar

(GOF 7-16)

'You ... you ...' Wormtail's voice sounded suddenly hoarse, as though his mouth had gone very dry. 'You ... are going to kill me too?'

'Wormtail, Wormtail,' said the cold voice silkily, 'why would I kill you? I killed Bertha because I had to. She was fit for nothing after my questioning, quite useless. In any case, awkward question would have been asked if she had gone back to the Ministry with news that she had met you on her holidays. Wanted wizards would do well not to run into Ministry of Magic witches at wayside inns ...'

Wormtail muttered something so quietly that Frank could not hear it, but it made the second man laugh - an entirely mirthless laugh, cold as his speech.

' _We could have modified her memory? _But Memory Charms can be broken by a powerful wizard, as I proved when I questioned her. It would be an insult to her memory not to use the information I extracted from her, Wormtail.'__

__Out in the corridor, Frank suddenly became aware that the hand gripping his walking stick was slippery with sweat. The man with the cold voice had killed a woman. He was talking about it without any kind of remorse - with _amusement _. He was dangerous - a madman. And he was planning more murders - this boy, Harry Potter, whoever he was - was in danger -___ _

____Frank knew what he must do. Now, if ever, was the time to go to the police. He would creep out of the house and head straight for the telephone box in the village ... but the cold voice was speaking again, and Frank remained where he was, frozen to the spot, listening with all his might._ _ _ _

____'One more curse ... my faithful servant at Hogwarts ... our spy was denied the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again, but no matter ... he still works for us, despite Dumbledore's trust in him ... Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided. There will be no more argument. But quiet ... I think I hear Nagini ...'_ _ _ _

____And the second man's voice changed. He started making noises such as Frank had never heard before; he was hissing and spitting without drawing breath. Frank thought he must be having some sort of fit or seizure._ _ _ _

____And then Frank heard movement behind him in the dark passageway. He turned to look behind him, and found himself paralysed with fright._ _ _ _

____Something was slithering towards him along the dark corridor floor, and as it drew nearer to the sliver of firelight, he realised with a thrill of terror that it was a gigantic snake, at least twelve feet long. Horrified, transfixed, Frank stared at it as its undulating body cut a wide, curving track through the thick dust floor, coming closer and closer - what was he to do? The only means of escape was into the room where the two men sat plotting murder, yet of he stayed where he was the snake would surely kill him -_ _ _ _

____But before he had made his decision, the snake was level with him, and then, incredibly, miraculously, it was passing; it was following the spitting, hissing noises made by the cold voice beyond the door, and in seconds, the tip of its diamond-patterned tail had vanished through the gap._ _ _ _

____There was sweat on Frank's forehead now, and the hand on the walking stick was trembling. Inside the room, the cold voice was continuing to hiss, and Frank was visited by a strange idea, an impossible idea ... This man could talk to snakes._ _ _ _

____Frank didn't understand what was going on. He wanted more than anything to be back in his bed with his hot-water bottle. The problem was that his legs didn't seem to want to move. As he stood there shaking, and trying to master himself, the cold voice switched abruptly to English again._ _ _ _

____'Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail,' it said._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____'In-indeed, my Lord?' said Wormtail._ _ _ _

____'Indeed, yes,' said the voice. 'According to Nagini, there is an old Muggle standing right outside this room, listening to every word we say.'_ _ _ _

____Frank didn't have a chance to hide himself. There were footsteps, and then the door of the room was flung wide open._ _ _ _

____A short, balding man with greying hair, a pointed nose and small, watery eyes stood before Frank, a mixture of fear and alarm on his face. Frank recognised him from the papers he read. This was the man who had killed a street full of people thirteen years ago and pinned it on an innocent man after going into hiding._ _ _ _

____Frank felt a shiver run down his spine as he faced this despicable man. If he was the servant, what had the master done?_ _ _ _

____'Invite him inside, Wormtail. Where are your manners?'_ _ _ _

____The cold voice was coming from the ancient armchair before the fire, but Frank couldn't see the speaker. The snake, on the other hand, was curled up on the rotting hearth-rug, like some horrible travesty of a pet dog._ _ _ _

____(GOF 18-24)_ _ _ _

____But there was still a fortnight to go before he went back to school. He looked hopelessly around his room again, and his eye paused on the birthday cards his friends had sent him at the end of July. What would they say if he wrote to them and told them about his scar hurting?_ _ _ _

____At once, Hermione Granger's voice filled his head, shrill and panicky._ _ _ _

_____'Your scar hurt? Harry that's really serious ... Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I'll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions ... Maybe there's something in there about curse scars ...' ____ _ _ _

______Yes, that would be Hermione's advice: go straight to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. Harry stared out of the window at the only, blue-black sky. He doubted very much whether a book could help him now. As far as he knew, he was the only living person to have survived a curse like Voldemort's; it was highly unlikely, therefore, that he would find his symptoms listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. As for informing the Headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full-length wizard's robes and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion into his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry's owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to any-one, even without an address. But what would he write?_ _ _ _ _ _

_______Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. ____ _ _ _ _ _

________Even inside his head the words sounded stupid._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And so he tried to imagine Ron Weasley's reaction, and in a moment, Ron's long-nosed, freckled face seemed to swim before Harry, wearing a bemused expression._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________'Your scar hurt? But ... but You-Know-Who can't be near you now, can he? I mean ... you'd know, wouldn't you? He'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't he? I dunno, Harry, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit ... I'll ask Dad ...'_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Mr Weasley was a fully qualified wizard who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry if Magic, but he didn't have any particular expertise in the matter of curses, as far as Harry knew. In any case, Harry didn't like the idea of the whole Weasley family knowing that he, Harry, was getting jumpy about a few moments' pain. Mrs Weasley would fuss worse than Hermione, and Fred and George, Ron's sixteen-year-old twin brothers, might think Harry was losing his nerve. The Weasleys were Harry's favourite family in the world; he was hoping they might invite him to stay any time now (Ron had mentioned something about the Quidditch World Cup), and he somehow didn't want his visit punctuated with anxious enquiries about his scar._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Harry turned his thoughts to his other best friend, Neville Longbottom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Out of everyone Neville would understand the way Harry felt the most. Like Harry, Neville had lost his parents at a young age to Voldemort. Though rather than them being murdered as Harry's were, Neville's parents were tortured by Voldemort's followers to the point of insanity. Neville had grown up with his formidable grandmother, and though he visited his parents regularly in hospital they had no idea who he was._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Harry imagined that, like Hermione, Neville would recommend talking to Dumbledore, or, maybe like Ron, he would ask one of his many wizarding relatives for advice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________The one person Harry's age who probably knew the most about the Dark Arts and could perhaps provide an answer was Draco Malfoy. Draco had started off a rival of Harry's, but slowly they had become more friendly with one another until an incident last year made Draco an outcast. Harry hadn't seen or heard from him since the Easter holidays - any letters he sent were returned unopened, so Harry couldn't see how this time would be any different._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Harry kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to himself) was someone like - someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had had experience of Dark Magic ..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________And then the solution came to him. It was so simple, and so obvious, he couldn't believe it had taken so long - Sirius._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room and sat down at his desk; he pulled a piece of parchment towards him, loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink, wrote _Dear Sirius _, then paused, wondering how best to phrase his problem, and still marvelling at the fact that he hadn't thought of Sirius straight away. But then, perhaps it wasn't so surprising. He had only found out that Sirius was his godfather, and a good man, two months ago.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________There was a simple reason for Sirius' complete absence from Harry's life until then - Sirius had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard gaol guarded by creatures called Dementors, sightless, soul-sucking fiends who had come to search for Sirius at Hogwarts when he had escaped. Yet Sirius had been innocent - the murders for which he had been convicted had been committed by Wormtail, Voldemort's supporters, whom everyone had believed dead. The world now knew otherwise. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville had come face to face with Wormtail the previous year and Professors Lupin, Black and Dumbledore, as well the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had all seen him too before his escape._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Remus Lupin had been one of Sirius' best friends at school, along with Harry's father, and was living with Sirius as he settled back in to normal life._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Professor Black was the Potions Master at Hogwarts (though everyone knew he really wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job) and Sirius' brother. Neither of them got on well, even before Sirius was accused of murder. From the letters Sirius had sent Harry they were both looking forward to the start of the new school year when Remus and Sirius would have the Black Family House to themselves, without having to tiptoe around Professor Black._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Cornelius Fudge had put the Auror Office into overdrive searching for Wormtail after he had escaped custody. The Aurors were an elite team of wizards, Harry had learnt from his friends, who battled against Dark Wizards and had been instrumental in the War against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The head of the Aurors Office, Rufus Scrimgeour, was working tirelessly according to reports in the Daily Prophet, but they were yet to find any sign of Wormtail._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Harry and Sirius had discussed last year Harry moving in with him, but Dumbledore had put a stop to this, insisting that Harry return to the Dursleys whilst Sirius adjusted after his time in Azkaban._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldn't be with him. It was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursleys had never allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this. But their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a powerful wizard for a godfather._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Harry had been corresponding with Sirius all over the summer and they had really bonded. Although he was upset that he hadn't been able to see Harry since he name had been cleared, and despite the fact that he was finding it difficult to be in the same space as his brother and their House-Elf, who disliked Sirius immensely, he always sounded upbeat and cheerful - thankful for the second chance he had been given. And he'd promised that they'd be able to see each other before the Summer was over. He always reminded Harry to call on him if he ever needed to. Well, he needed to now, all right ..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________Harry's lamp seemed to grow dimmer as the cold grey light that precedes sunrise slowly crept into the room. Finally, when the sun had risen, when his bedroom walls had turned gold and when the sounds of movement could be heard from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's room, Harry cleared his desk of crumpled pieces of parchment, and re-read his finished letter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Dear Sirius, ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Thanks for your birthday card, and I love the photographs you sent of my mum and dad. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Things are the same as usual here. Dudley's diet isn't going too well. My aunt find him snuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him they'd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. That's a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasn't even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mind off things. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________I'm OK, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________A weird thing happened this morning, though, my scar hurt again. Last time it happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don't reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterwards? ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________I'll send Hedwig when she gets back, she's off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Remus for me. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________Harry ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________Yes, thought Harry, that looked alright. There was no point putting in the dream, he didn't want it to look as though he was too worried. He folded the parchment up and laid it aside on his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned. Then he got to his feet, stretched and opened his wardrobe once more. Without glancing at his reflection, he started to get dressed before going down to breakfast._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	36. The Invitation Back to the Burrow

(GOF 29-36)

Laughing at the astonished look on Dudley's face, Harry took the stairs three at a time and hurried himself back into his bedroom.

The first thing he noticed was that Hedwig was back. She was sitting in her cage, staring at Harry with her enormous amber eyes. Next to her was Errol, and next to Errol was a letter. Harry picked it up, recognised Ron's handwriting, then tore open the envelope. Inside was a hastily scribbled note.

_Harry - DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. Mum's writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I don't know how fast Muggle post is. Thought I'd borrow Errol to send this anyway._

_We're coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can't miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it's better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes, send Errol back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Errol back pronto and we'll come and get you at five o'clock Sunday anyway._

_Hermione and Neville are arriving this afternoon. Percy's started work - the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Don't mention anything about Abroad while you're here unless you want the pants bored off you._

_See you soon - Ron_

Harry seized his eagle-feather quill at once, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and wrote:

_Ron, it's all OK, the Muggles say I can come. See you five o'clock tomorrow. Can't wait. Harry_

He folded the note up very small and tied it to Errol's leg, who took another sip of Hedwig's water and flew out of the window back to The Burrow.

Harry turned to Hedwig.

'Can you take this to Sirius for me?' he said, picking up his letter.

Hedwig hooted in a dignified sort of way.

'Hang on,' said Harry. 'I just want to finish it.'

He unfolded the parchment again and hastily added a postscript.

_If you want to contact me, I'll be at Ron Weasley's for the rest of summer. His dad's got us tickets to the Quidditch World Cup!_

The letter finished, he tied it to Hedwig's leg.

'I'm going to Ron's tomorrow, so just go there when you've delivered this.' Harry told her.

She nipped his finger affectionately, then, with a soft swooshing noise, spread her enormous wings and soared out of the open window.

Harry watched her out of sight, then crawled under his bed, wrenched up the loose floorboard, and pulled out a large chunk of birthday cake. He sat there on the floor eating it, savouring the happiness that was flooding through him. He had cake, and Dudley had nothing but grapefruit; it was a bright summer's day, he would be leaving Privet Drive tomorrow, his scar felt perfectly normal again, and he was going to watch the Quidditch World Cup. It was hard, just now, to feel worried about anything - even Lord Voldemort.

(GOF 39-41)

Harry spent most of the afternoon in his bedroom; he couldn't stand watching Aunt Petunia peer out through the net curtains every few seconds, as though there had been a warning about an escaped rhinoceros. Finally, at a quarter to five, Harry went back downstairs and into the living room.

Aunt Petunia was compulsively straightening cushions. Uncle Vernon was pretending to read the paper, but his tiny eyes were not moving, and Harry was sure he was really listening with all his might for the sound of an approaching car.

Dudley was crammed into an armchair, his porky hands beneath him, clamped firmly around his bottom. Harry couldn't take the tension; he left the room and went and sat on the stairs in the hall, his eyes on his watch and his heart pumping fast from the excitement and nerves.

Four fifty-five ... four fifty-six ... four fifty-seven ... four fifty-eight ... four fifty-nine ... 

'AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!' came a scream from the living-room.

Harry jumped up. He heard the three Dursleys scrambling, panic-stricken across the room. Next moment Dudley came flying into the hall, looking terrified.

'What happened?' said Harry. 'What's the matter?'

But Dudley didn't seem able to speak. Hands still clamped over his buttocks, he waddled as fast as he could into the kitchen. Harry hurried into the living room.

Loud hangings and scrapings were coming from behind the Durleys' boarded-up fireplace, which had a fake coal fire plugged in front of it.

'What is it?' gasped Aunt Petunia, who had backed into the wall and was staring, terrified, towards the fire. 'What is it, Vernon?'

But they were left in doubt barely a second longer. Voices could be heard from inside the blocked fireplace.

'Ouch! Ron, no - go back, go back, there's been a mistake - tell the others not to - OUCH! Remus there's a bit of a problem!'

'What's the issue Arthur?' came the voice of Remus Lupin. Harry's heart skipped a beat. If Remus was here then surely -

'Argh! What's this?' came the voice of Sirius Black. Harry's godfather was here to take him away from the Weasleys. 'Where's Harry?'

The Dursleys rounded on Harry like a pair of angry wolverines.

'What's is this?' growled Uncle Vernon. 'What's going on?'

'They - they've tried to get here by Floor powder,' said Harry fighting a mad desire to laugh. 'They can travel by fire - only you've blocked the fireplace - hang on -'

'Sirius? Mr Weasley? Ron? Professor Lupin? Can you hear me?'

The scuffling behind the wall stopped. Somebody inside the chimney-piece said, 'Shh!'

'Sirius, it's Harry ... the fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there '

'What do you mean, blocked?' came Sirius's voice. 'Are they trying to stop us from getting you?'

'No,' said Harry. 'They've got an electric fire.'

'Really?' said Mr Weasley's voice excitedly. 'Ecklectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that ... let's think ...'

'Arthur,' came Remus's voice. 'Can I suggest a more forceful approach for this?'

'Of course, of course,' said Mr Weasley. 'Yes ... it's the only way ... stand back, Harry.

Harry retreated to the sofa. Uncle Vernon, however, moved forwards.

'Wait a moment!' he bellowed at the fire. 'What exactly are you going to -?'

BANG.

The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded-up fireplace burst outwards, expelling Mr Weasley, Ron, Remus and, finally, Sirius in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings. Aunt Petunia shrieked and fell backwards over the coffee table; Uncle Vernon caught her before she got the floor and gaped, speechless, at the four wizards in front of him.

'That's better,' panted Mr Weasley, brushing dust from his long green robes and straightening his glasses. 'Ah - you must be Harry's aunt and uncle!'

Tall and thin, with balding red hair, he moved towards Uncle Vernon, his hand outstretched, but Uncle Vernon backed away several paces, dragging Aunt Petunia. Words utterly failed Uncle Vernon. His best suit was covered in white dust, which had settled in his hair and moustache and made him look as though he had just aged thirty years.

'Er - yes - sorry about that,' said Mr Weasley, lowering his hand and looking over his shoulder at the blasted fireplace. 'It's all my fault, it just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floor Network, you see - just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking - but I've got a useful contact at the Floor Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can out it right in a jiffy, though, don't worry. I'll light a fire to send everyone back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate.'

Harry was ready to beg that the Dursleys hadn't understood a single word of this. They were still gaping, thunderstruck. Aunt Petunia staggered upright again, and hid behind Uncle Vernon.

'I told you we should have come on broomsticks,' Sirius said. Then he turned to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and smiled. 'I'm Sirius Black, Harry's godfather.'

Sirius seemed to enjoy the effect he had on the Dursleys as they shrank into the corner of the living-room. He turned to Harry and embraced him. 'Good to see you, Harry.'

Harry returned the hug and felt it's warmth run through him. Sirius was looking much better than when Harry had last seen him. His hair was no longer lank and dirty, but flowed from his head full of life. His cheeks were rosy and plump where before his face had been pale and gaunt. The past two months, no longer on the run, had been good for him

'I trust your trunk is packed?' said Lupin.

'Yeah,' said Harry, grinning, 'it's upstairs.'

'I'll give you a hand, mate,' said Ron beaming.

The two of them left the adults in the living-room and climbed the stairs to Harry's bedroom.

'Surprise!' said Ron. 'Sirius and Lupin are coming to the World Cup too!'

'Seriously?' said Harry.

'Yeah, it's all sorted. They're staying with us tonight and then joining us at the match tomorrow. They'll go back to London on Tuesday, it's too crowded for them to stay for two weeks, but it'll be nice to spend a bit of time with them, won't it?'

'Yeah,' said Harry, grinning at the thought of spending the next couple of days with Sirius. They picked up Harry's trunk, him at one end, Ron at the other and carefully carried it back down the stairs.

As they re-entered the living-room they saw Dudley had rejoined his parents.

'Ah, right,' said Mr Weasley, upon seeing Harry and Ron. 'Better get cracking, then.'

He pushed up the sleeves of his robes and took out his wand. Harry saw the Dursleys draw back against the wall as one. 

'Incendio!' said Mr Weasley, pointing his wand at the hole in the wall behind him.

Flames rose at once in the fireplace, crackling merrily as though they had been burning for hours.

Mr Weasley took a small drawstring bag from his pocket, untied it, took a pinch of the piece inside it and threw it onto the flanges, which turned emerald green and roared higher than ever.

'Off you go then, Ron,' said Mr Weasley.

'See you,' said Ron, brightly to the Dursleys. He grinned broadly at Harry, then stepped into the fire, saying 'The Burrow!' Aunt Petunia gave a littlr shuddering gasp. There was a whooshing sound and Ron vanished.

'Remus,' said Mr Weasley, 'you'd better go with the trunk next. Sirius helped Remus lift the trunk into the fireplace upright.

'Pleasure to have met you,' said Remus before he enunciated 'The Burrow!' and disappeared with another whoosh.

'Sirius, you go next,' said Mr Weasley.

'Thank you for your hospitality, you must pop round mine for tea sometime,' Sirius said to the Dursleys with a grin. Harry suppressed a laugh. Sirius was about to enter the fireplace when he turned and put his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a wrapped toffee and looked directly at Dudley.

'You look like a boy who likes sweets,' he said as he tossed the toffee to Dudley. Sirius stepped into the fireplace as the Dursleys looked at the sweet in Dudley's fat little fist as if it was a bomb. 'You know, it's really bad form to not accept a gift from a wizard.' Then he vanished from the fireplace with another grin, and another whoosh as he shouted 'The Burrow!'

'Was he threatening my son?' asked Uncle Vernon furiously, his face the colour of beetroot.

'No, no,' said Mr Weasley hastily, 'not at all ... Sirius has an odd sense of humour, that's all.'

'Odd alright ...' said Uncle Vernon.

'Well, Harry, your turn,' said Mr Weasley.

'Bye then,' Harry said to the Dursleys.

They didn't say anything at all. Harry moved towards the fire, but just as he reached the edge of the hearth, Mr Weasley put out a hand and held him back. He was looking at the Dursleys in amazement.

'Harry said goodbye to you,' he said. 'Didn't you hear him?'

'It doesn't matter,' Harry muttered to Mr Weasley. 'Honestly, I don't care.'.

Mr Weasley did not remove his hand from Harry's shoulder.

'You aren't going to see your nephew 'til next summer,' he said to Uncle Vernon in mild indignation. 'Surely you're going to say goodbye?'

Uncle Vernon's face worked furiously. The idea of being taught consideration by a man who had just blasted away half his living-room wall seemed to be causing him intense suffering.

But Mr Weasley's wand was still in his hand, and Uncle Vernon's tiny eyes darted to it once, before he said, very resentfully, 'Goodbye, then '

Suddenly there was a crack and Remus reappeared in the living-room as if from thin air.

'Don't eat the toffee!' he shouted.

Everyone turned to look at Dudley, who's eyes were wide with shock. But his eyes were nothing compared to the the foot-long, purple slimy thing that was protruding from his mouth, causing him to splutter and gag. One bewildered second later, Harry realised that the foot-long thing was Dudley's tongue - and he then saw the brightly coloured toffee wrapped that lay on the floor before him.

Aunt Petunia hurled herself onto the ground beside Dudley, seized the end of his tongue and attempted to wrench it out of his mouth; unsurprisingly, Dudley yelled and spluttered worse than ever, trying to fight her off. Uncle Vernon was bellowing and waving his arms around, and Remus had to shout to make himself heard.

'It's one of the twins', Arthur,' he shouted to Mr Weasley. 'A simple engorgement charm. I'm going to murder Sirius! 

Remus pulled his wand out and pointed it at Dudley. 'Excuse me, Petunia,' he said as she screamed worse than ever and threw herself in top of Dudley, in an attempt to shield him. 'It's a simple procedure.'

But far from being reassured, the Dursleys became more panic-stricken; aunt Petunia was sobbing hysterically, tugging Dudley's tongue as though determined to rip it out; Dudley appeared to be suffocating under the combined pressure of his mother and his tongue; and Uncle Vernon, who had lost control completely, seized a china figure from on top of the sideboard and threw it very hard at Remus, who ducked, causing the ornament to shatter in the blasted fireplace.

'Now really!' said Mr Weasley, angrily, brandishing his own wand. 'We're only trying to help!'

Bellowing like a wounded hippo, Uncle Vernon snatched up another ornament.

'Harry, go! Just go!' Mr Weasley shouted, his wand on Uncle Vernon. 'We'll sort this out!'

Harry didn't want to miss the fun, but did Uncle Vernon's second ornament narrowly missed his left ear, and on balance he thought it best to leave the situation to Mr Weasley and Remus. He stepped into the fire, looking over his shoulder as he said, 'The Burrow!'; his last fleeting glimpse of the living room was of Mr Weasley blasting a third ornament out of Uncle Vernon's hand with his wand and Remus trying to remove a screaming Aunt Petunia from Dudley, who's tongue was lolling around like a great slimy python. But next moment Harry had begun to spin very fast, and the Dursleys' living room was whipped out of sight in a rush of emerald green flames.


	37. Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes

Harry spun faster and faster, elbows tucked tightly into his sides, blurred fireplaces flashing past him, until he started to feel such and closed his eyes. Then, when at last he felt himself slowing down, he threw out his hands and brought himself to a halt in time to prevent himself falling face down out of the Weasleys' kitchen fire.

'So, did he eat it?' said Sirius excitedly, holding out a hand to pull Harry to his feet.

'Yeah,' said Harry, straightening up. 'What was it?'

'Ton-Tongue Toffee,' said Fred who was stood next to Sirius. 'George and I invented them, we've been looking for someone to test then on all summer ...'

The tiny kitchen exploded with laughter; Harry looked around and saw Ron, Neville and George were sitting at the scrubbed wooden table with two red-haired people Harry had never seen before, though he knew immediately who they must be: Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasley brothers.

'These boys are geniuses!' said Sirius, looking proudly at Fred and George. 'The fun we could have had at Hogwarts if they were there with me and your dad!'

The nearer of the two older brothers held out a large hand for Harry to shake. 'How're you doing, Harry?' he said. Harry could feel the calluses and blisters under his fingers. This had to be Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania. Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky. He had a broad, good-natured face, which was weather-beaten and so freckly that he looked almost tanned; his arms were muscly and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it

Bill got to his feet, smiling, and also shook Harry's hand. Bill came as something of a surprise. Harry knew that he worked for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, that he had been head boy of Hogwarts, and had always imagined Bill to be an older version of Percy; fussy about rule-breaking and find of bossing everyone around. However, Bill was - there was no other word for it - cool. He was tall, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. His clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that Harry recognised his boots to be made, not of leather, but if dragon hide.

Before any of them could say anything else, there were two popping noises as Mr Weasley and Remus appeared out of thin air, both looking angrier than Harry had ever seen.

'You reckless fool!' shouted Remus at Sirius. 'I am doing my best here to help you, but how stupid do you have to be to harm a Muggle? Especially when there are people out there who are still convinced Peter is dead?'

'I know it was one of yours!' Mr Weasley roared at Fred and George. 'This sort of behavior undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatments of Muggles and my own some conspire -'

'I gave him the toffee, Arthur,' interrupted Sirius. 'The Dursleys mistreat Harry, they deserve a little harmless payback.'

'Harmless?' said Remus indignantly. 'You gave a child a four foot long tongue!'

'Four foot!' gasped George.

'Amazing!' said Fred.

'That's not the point!' yelled Mr Weasley. 'As Remus quite rightly pointed out, Dudley is a child, you shouldn't be experimenting on him!'

'Well, I'd've offered it to Daddy Dursleys, but I think he'd have been less inclined to eat something a wizard gave him,' said Sirius. 'You should be proud Arthur, that's some seriously advanced magic.'

'Sirius!' yelled Remus in exasperation. 'It's bad enough that you are being foolhardy, but don't you dare lead these young men astray with you!'

'What's going on with all this shouting?' said a voice behind them.

Mrs Weasley had just entered the kitchen. She was a short, plump woman with a very kind face, though her eyes were presently narrowed in suspicion.

'Oh, hello, Harry, dear,' she said, spotting him and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. 'Would you like to explain what's going on, Arthur?'

Mr Weasley hesitated. Harry could tell that, however angry he was with Fred and George, he hadn't intended to tell Mrs Weasley what had happened. There was a silence, while Mr Weasley eyed his wife nervously. Then two girls appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs Weasley. One, with very bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth, was Harry's friend, Hermione. The other, who was small and red-haired, was Ron's younger sister, Ginny. Both of them smiled at Harry, who grinned back, which made Ginny go scarlet - she had been very taken with Harry ever since his first visit to The Burrow.

'What's going on, Arthur?' Mrs Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

'I'm afraid, Molly,' Remus said, leaping to Mr Weasley's aid, 'That Sirius and I may have to return to London more immediately than expected. Sirius here seems to have forgotten he's not a teenager any more and needs to set a better example to those more impressionable.'

'Hey!' said Fred. 'We're not impressionable!'

'Yeah, we were the ones who came up with the idea! Sirius just supports our entrepreneurial spirit!' said George.

'If this has anything to do with Weasleys'Wizarding Wheezes,' said Mrs Weasley darkly.

'Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?' said Hermione from the doorway.

'He knows where he's sleeping,' said Ron. 'In my room, he slept there last -'

'We can all go,' said Hermione, pointedly.

'Oh,' said Ron, cottoning on. 'Right.'

'Yeah, we'll come, too,' said George -

'You stay where you are!' snarled Mrs Weasley.

Harry, Ron and Neville edged out of the kitchen, and they, Hermione and Ginny set off along the narrow hallway and up the ticket staircase that zig-zagged through the house to the upper storeys.

'What are Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes?' Harry asked, as they climbed.

Ron, Neville and Ginny laughed, although Hermione didn't.

'Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room,' said Ron quietly. 'Great long price-lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that ...'

'We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things,' said Ginny, 'we thought they just liked the noise.'

'Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous,' said Ron, 'and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burnt all the order forms ... she's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.Ls as expected.

O.W.Ls were Ordinary Wizarding Levels, the examinations Hogwarts students took at the age of fifteen.

'And then there was this big row,' Ginny said, 'because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke-shop.'

'And now, Sirius wants to help them,' said Hermione disapprovingly.

'That's brilliant!' said Harry, picturing what a Weasley twin joke-shop might look like.

'Well from the sounds of things,' said Ginny as the shouting that was echoing from the kitchen picked up again, 'Mum doesn't think so.'

Finally they reached Ron's bedroom at the top of the house. It looked much as it had done the last time that Harry had come to stay; the same posters of Ron's favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, were whirling and waving on the walls and sloping ceiling. The fishtank on the window-sill which had previously held frogspawn now contained one extremely large frog, and a toad that Harry recognised as Trevor, Neville's pet. Ron's old rat, Scabbers, was here no more, but instead Hedwig was perched next to Hermes, Percy's owl and, sure enough, squashed at a writing desk in the corner thanks to the four beds that had been squeezed into the room, wearing his horn-rimmed glasses, was Percy. He turned to look at the intruders in annoyance.

'Hi, Percy,' said Harry.

'Oh, hello, Harry,' said Percy. 'Look I don't want to be rude, but if you're just dropping your trunk off and then could leave me in peace. I'm trying to work, you know - I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep barging in and out.'

'We're not barging in or out of anywhere,' said Ron irritably. ' We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic.'

'What are you working on?' said Harry.

'A report for the Department of International Magical Co-operation,' said Percy smugly. 'We're trying to standardise cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of three per cent last year -'

'That'll change the world, that report will,' said Ron. 'Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks.'

Percy went slightly pink.

'You might sneer, Ron,' he said heatedly, 'but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products which serious endanger -'

'Yeah, yeah, all right,' said Ron, as he motioned for everyone to leave the room and slammed the door behind them.

'Sirius and Remus have taken his room, so he's sharing with us and Neville,' Ron explained. 'Bill and Charlie are with Fred and George in their room and Hermione's with Ginny, which is our safe haven at the moment. Mum's given strict instructions not to disturb Percy while he's working.'

The five of them headed back down to Ginny's room on the first floor and sat themselves onto the two beds there were set up, Hermione and Ginny on one side, Harry, Ron and Neville facing them.

Looking around the small but bright room Harry noticed that, like Ron, Ginny had a Quidditch poster fixed to one of her walls, though this time of the Holyhead Harpies. The other wall had a poster of the wizarding band the Weird Sisters. The window looked out over the orchard.

'Where's Crookshanks?' Harry asked Hermione.

'Out in the garden, I expect,' she said. 'He likes chasing the gnomes, he's never seen any before.'

'Percy's enjoying work then?' said Harry, watching the Holyhead Harpies pass a Quaffle between themselves.

'Enjoying it?' said Ron darkly. 'I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. _According to Mr Crouch ... as I was saying to Mr Crouch ... Mr Crouch is of the opinion ... Mr Crouch was telling me ..._ they'll be announcing their engagement any day now.'

'Have you had a good summer, Harry?' said Hermione. 'Did you get our food parcels and everything?'

'Yeah, thanks a lot,' said Harry. 'They saved my life, those cakes.'

'Have you heard from Draco?' Neville asked.

A silence fell about the room as Hermione looked nervously across at Harry, who could feel Ron tense up beside him. 

'No,' Harry said simply, putting an end to the subject.

'I think they've stopped arguing,' said Hermione, to cover the awkward moment. 'Shall we go down and help your mum with the dinner?'

'Yeah, all right,' said Ron. The five of them left Ginny's room and went back downstairs, to find Sirius alone in the kitchen, at the sink peeling potatoes in a pink frilly apron.

'Hello, you lot,' he said, grinning as they walked in. 'I thought I'd look after dinner to make up for what I did to Dudley. Remus is making me do it without magic though, something about giving me a proper punishment!'

'Where's Mum?' asked Ron.

'Your dad and Remus are calming her down in the garden. She's worried that the twins are throwing their education away, but as I said, it was my fault, but the magic they're using is incredibly advanced stuff. She should be impressed with them, not making them feed the chickens! Bill and Charlie are setting the table outside too - best place for fourteen of us.'

'Need a hand?' asked Harry.

'Why don't you lot take the plates and cutlery out?' said Sirius. 'If Molly sees you doing something useful I think she'll find it easier to relax. And I think it'd defeat the purpose if her or Remus saw you helping me in here!'

So Harry took half the plates, whilst Ron took the other seven. Hermione, Neville and Ginny took the knives and forks between them. They headed out of the back door into the yard, leaving Sirius to cook on his own.

They had only gone a few paces when Hermione's bandy-legged, ginger cat Crookshanks same pelting out of the garden, bottle-brush tail held high in the air, chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs. Harry recognised it instantly as a gnome. Barely ten inches high, it's horny little feet pattered very fast as it sprinted across the yard and dived headlong into one of the wellington boots that lay scattered around the door. Harry could hear the gnome giggling madly as Crookshanks inserting a paw into the boot, trying to reach it. Meanwhile, a very loud crashing noise was coming from the other side of the house. The source of the commotion was revealed as the entered the garden and saw that Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and we're making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Fred and George were cheering, Mr Weasley and Remus were standing back, torn between amusement and anxiety.

The cause of their anxiety was not the floating tables - though Bill's had caught Charlie's with a huge back, knocking one of its legs off, which span to the ground - but Mrs Weasley who looked ready to explode.

'Bill! Charlie!' she hissed. 'Do you have no concern for your brother and his work!'

There was a clatter from overhead as Percy poked his head out of Ron's window.

'Will you keep it down?' he bellowed, as if to prove Mrs Weasley's point.

'Sorry, Perce,' said Bill, grinning. 'How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?'

But Percy had either not heard his brother, or refused to respond and slammed the window shut again. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg, and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

By seven thirty, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Sirius's admittedly excellent cooking. Even Mrs Weasley agreed it was delicious and seemed to have calmed after the upset of the afternoon. The nine Weasleys, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Sirius and Remus had settled down to eat beneath a clear, deep-blue sky. To somebody who had been living on meals of increasingly stale cake all summer, this was paradise, and at first, Harry listened rather than talked, as he helped himself to chicken-and-ham pie, boiled potatoes and salad.

'Not bad for someone who's been on prison grub and scraps for thirteen years,' said Fred.

'Sirius always did know how to cook well,' said Remus. 'Though I'll admit I'm impressed you did all this with no wandwork.'

At the far end of the table, Percy was telling his father all about his report on cauldron bottoms.

'I've told Mr Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday,' Percy was saying pompously. 'That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time. I mean, it's extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman -'

'I like Ludo,' said Mr Weasley mildly. 'He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a favour: his brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble - a lawnmower with unnatural powers - I smoothed the whole thing over.'

'Oh, Bagman's likeable enough, of course,' said Percy dismissively, 'but how he ever got to be Head of Department ... when I compared him to Mr Crouch! I can't see Mr Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what happened to them. You realise Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?'

'Yes, I was asking Ludo about that,' said Mr Weasley, frowning. 'He says Bertha's got lost plenty of times before now - though I must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried ...'

'Oh, Bertha's hopeless, all right,' said Percy. 'I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth ... but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr Crouch has been taking a personal interest - she works in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr Crouch was quite fond of her - but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However,' Percy heaved an impressive sigh, and took a deep swig of elderflower wine, 'we've got enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Co-operation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organise right after the World Cup.'

He cleared his throat and looked down towards the end of the table where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville were sitting. 'You know the one I'm talking about, Father.' He raised his voice slightly. 'The top-secret one.'

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered the the others, 'He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition if thick-bottomed cauldrons.'

Further along the table, Mrs Weasley was arguing with Bill about his earring, which seemed to be a recent acquisition.

'... with a horrible great fang on it, really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?'

'Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure,' said Bill patiently.

'And you hair's getting silly, dear,' said Mrs Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly. 'I wish you'd let me give it a trim ...'

'Come now, Molly,' said Remus who was sat beside Bill, 'he's a young man now, let him figure himself out. Merlin's beard, don't you wish we'd had that opportunity at his age?'

Next to Mrs Weasley and Remus, Fred, George, Charlie and Sirius were all talking spiritedly about the World Cup.

'It's got to be Ireland,' said Charlie thickly, though a mouthful of potato. 'They flattened Peru in the semi-finals.'

'Bulgaria have got Viktor Krum, though,' said Fred.

'Krum's one decent player, Ireland have got seven,' said Charlie shortly. 'I wish England had got through, though. That was embarrassing, that was.'

'What happened?' said Harry eagerly, regretting more than ever his isolation from the wizarding world when he was stuck in Privet Drive. Harry was passionate about Quidditch. He had played as Seeker on the Gryffindor house Quidditch team ever since his first year at Hogwarts and owned a Firebolt, one of the best racing brooms in the world.

'Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten,' said Charlie gloomily. 'Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland were slaughtered by Luxembourg.'

'From what my brother says,' said Sirius, 'you should have been on that team, Charlie. One hell of a Seeker apparently. I don't know who he admired more: you, Harry or himself!'

Mr Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had pudding (Mrs Weasley's home-made strawberry ice-cream), and by the time they had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table and the warm air was perfumes with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. Harry was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as he watched several gnomes sprinting through the rose bushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks.

'Harry,' said Sirius suddenly, standing up, 'shall we go walk our dinner off?'

'Sure,' said Harry, getting up to join him.

They walked away from the table and around the side of the house.

'So,' said Sirius, 'how's the scar?'

Harry was wondering when this would come up.

'It's fine,' said Harry. 'I think it was a one off.'

Sirius looked thoughtfully into the distance.

'I hope so, I hope so,' said Sirius. 'But with everything that happened the other month ... be wary, Harry, that's all I'm saying. I have the feeling we'll all have to be on our guard soon enough, though based on Dumbledore's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, he's taking early precautions.'

He turned and looked Harry directly in the eyes, smiling a sad smile. 'We're all here for you, Harry. Promise me that if the scar hurts whilst you're at Hogwarts this year, you'll go straight to Dumbledore.'

Harry promised that he would.

'Thank you, Harry. Now,' said Sirius, 'it's getting late and we've an early start in the morning. Time for bed I think. But make sure you leave Molly a list of things you need for school, she's going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, just in case the match goes on for five days like it did last time!'


	38. The Portkey

Harry thought he had barely lain down to sleep in Ron's room when he was being shaken awake by Mrs Weasley.

'Time to go, Harry, dear,' she whispered, moving away to wake Ron.

Harry felt around for his glasses, put them on and sat up. It was still dark outside. Ron muttered indistinctly as his mother roused him.

'Keep quiet, boys,' she said as she moved over to Neville. 'Percy's apparating later with Bill and Charlie, so let him have his lie-in.'

The three boys dressed themselves in silence, too sleepy to talk, then, yawning and stretching, they headed downstairs into the kitchen.

Sirius was stirring the contents of a large pot on the stove, while Remus was sitting at the table reading The Daily Prophet, Mr Weasley next to him, checking a large sheaf of parchment tickets.

Mr Weasley looked up as the boys entered, and spread his arms so they could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing jumper and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt.

'What d'you think?' he asked anxiously. 'We're supposed to go incognito - do I look like a Muggle, Harry?'

'Yeah,' said Harry, smiling, 'very good.'

Mr Weasley sighed with relief and said, 'I told you I knew what I was doing, Sirius.'

'Never let me doubt you again, Arthur,' said Sirius from his pot. Sirius was wearing a grey t-shirt under an open red plaid shirt, with ripped jeans and black trainers. In Harry's opinion he looked far more likely to pass as a modern Muggle. Remus was also in jeans, though his were neither ripped, nor baggy and a cream fisherman's jumper, with the sleeves pushed past his elbows.

Fred and George walked into the kitchen as Harry, Ron and Neville sat down at the table.

'Mornin'' yawned George, receiving a chorus of 'Mornings' in response.

Sirius started to serve the porridge he'd been making.

'Why do the others get a lie-in?' said Fred grumpily. 'Why can't we Apparate, too?'

'Because you're not of age,' said Mrs Weasley as she bustled into the kitchen, 'and you haven't got your test. Are those girls not down yet?'

She left the kitchen once more and they heard her climbing the stairs.

'You have to pass a test to Apparate?' Harry asked.

'Oh yes,' said Mr Weasley, tucking the tickets safely into the back pocket of his jeans. 'The Department of Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people the other day for Apparating without a licence. It's not easy, Apparation, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications. This pair I'm talking about went and splinched themselves.'

Everyone around the table except Harry winced.

'Er - splinched?' said Harry.

'They left half of themselves behind,' said Mr Weasley, now spooning large amounts of treacle onto his porridge. 'So, of course, they were stuck. Couldn't move either way. Had to wait for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad to sort them out. Meant a fair old bit of paperwork, I can tell you, what with the Muggles who spotted the body parts they'd left behind ...'

'Harry suddenly had a vision of a pair of legs and an eyeball lying abandoned on the pavement of Privet Drive.

'Were they OK?' he asked, startled.

'Oh yes,' said Mr Weasley matter-of-factly. 'But they got a heavy fine, and I don't think they'll be trying it again in a hurry. You don't mess with Apparation. There are plenty of adult wizards who don't bother with it. Prefer broom - slower, but safer.'

'But Bill and Charlie and Percy can all do it?'

'Charlie had to take the test twice,' said Fred, grinning. 'He failed first time, Apparated five miles south of where he meant to, right on top of some poor old dear doing her shopping, remember?'

'Yes, well, he passed second time,' said Mrs Weasley, marching back into the kitchen amid hearty sniggers.

'How about you?' Harry said, turning to his godfather.

'Oh, I passed first time as soon as I could take the test,' boasted Sirius. 'We all did, me, your dad, Remus ...' A silence hung in the air where Peter Pettigrew's name should have been. 'But the Ministry have told me I've got to re-apply for my licence after thirteen years of not Apparating, especially after I'd revealed that for most of my life I'd been living as an unlicenced Animagus. It's that Umbridge bitch that's making me jump through these hoops.'

'Sirius, what have I told you about minding your language!' admonished Molly as Hermione and Ginny walked into the kitchen, looking pale and drowsy.

'Why do we have to be up so early?' Ginny said, rubbing her eyes and sitting at the table as Mr Weasley got up to free up his chair.

'We've got a bit of a walk,' he said.

'Walk?' said Harry. 'What, are we walking to the World Cup?'

'No, no, that's miles away,' said Mr Weasley, smiling. 'We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about his we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup -'

'George!' said Mrs Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

'What?' said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

'What's that in your pocket?'

'Nothing!'

'Don't lie to me!'

Mrs Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said 'Accio!'

Several small, brightly coloured objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs Weasley's outstretched hand.

'We told you to destroy them!' said Mrs Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakeably more Ton-Tongue Toffee. 'We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!'

It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs Weasley managed to find them all.

'Accio! Accio! Accio!' she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

'We spent six months developing those!' Fred shouted at his mother, as she threw the toffees away.

'Oh, a fine way to spend six months!' she shrieked. 'No wonder you didn't get any more O.W.Ls!'

Mrs Weasley then turned on Sirius.

'And you!' she said, hand outstretched.

'Molly,' Sirius said with charm. 'I assure you that after yesterday's events I would not even consider -'

'Accio!' shouted Mrs Weasley. But nothing happened. She eyed Sirius suspiciously, who smiled innocently.

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they made their departure. Mrs Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

'Well, have a lovely time,' said Mrs Weasley, 'and behave yourselves,' she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look or answer. 'I'll send Bill, Charlie and Percy along around midday,' Mrs Weasley said to Mr Weasley, as he, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.

It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. Harry, having been thinking about thousands of wizards speeding towards the Quidditch World Cup slowed down to talk with Sirius.

'So how are we all going to get there without Muggles noticing?' he asked.

'Well, from what Arthur says, it's been a bit of a nightmare for the organisers,' said Sirius. 'Wizards are coming from all over the world, Harry. There has to been some sort of staggering of arrivals. Some are using Muggle busses and trains, that sort of thing. I think there's a nearby wood which is being used as an Apparation station. But we'll be going by Portkey, which is an everyday object that's charmed to transport large groups of people. They look like old boots or tin cans - the sort of thing that would stop Muggles from accidentally picking them up. Ours is up there.'

Sirius pointed to a large black mass that rose beyond the village of Ottery St Catchpole.

They trudged down the dark, dank lane towards the village, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Harry's hands and feet were freezing. Mr Weasley kept checking his watch.

They didn't have a breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black truffets of grass. Each breath Harry took was sharp in his chest, and his legs were starting to seize up when at last his feet found level ground.

'Whew,' panted Mr Weasley,taking off his glasses and wiping then on his sweater. 'Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes ...'

Hermione came over the crest of the hill, clutching at stitch in her side.

'Now we just need the Portkey,' said Mr Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. 'It won't be big ... come on ...'

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

'Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!'

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

'Amos!' said Mr Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.

Mr Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a mouldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

'This is Amos Diggory, everyone,' said Mr Weasley. 'Works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?'

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff house Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

'Hi,' said Cedric.

Everybody said 'Hi' back.

'Long walk, Arthur?' Cedric's father asked.

'Not too bad,' said Mr Weasley. 'We live just on the other side of the village there. You?'

'Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparation test. Still ... not complaining ... Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy ...' Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the students gathered in front of him. 'All these yours, Arthur?'

'Oh, no, only the redheads,' said Mr Weasley, pointing out his children. 'This is Hermione, friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -'

'Merlin's beard,' said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. 'Harry? Harry Potter?'

'Er - yeah,' said Harry.

Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable.

'Ced's talked about you, of course,' said Amos. 'A bit of a whizz on the Quidditch pitch yourself, I hear. He'll beat you to the Snitch next time though, won't you Ced? And who have we got here?' he asked, peering at Sirius and Remus, who were hovering in the background.

'Oh, this is Remus Lupin,' said Arthur.

'The werewolf!' said Amos.

'I can assure you you're quite safe, Mr Diggory,' said Remus drily. 'The full moon was a week ago.'

'Of course, of course,' said Amos, reaching out and shaking Remus's hand heartily. 'Very good to meet you. Cedric has nothing but praise for your teaching last year. Damn shame you're not carrying on by all accounts.'

'And I'm Sirius Black,' said Sirius. Stepping in to take over the handshake. As he did Amos took a step back. Sirius retracted his hand. 

'Amos, come now,' said Arthur. 'Sirius here has been pardoned of all charges. Fudge and Dumbledore themselves testified to say they had seen Pettigrew's return and escape. He gave statements under Veritaserum. Even Mad-Eye and Barry admitted a mistake had been made.'

'Of course, of course,' said Amos. 'I'm sorry, Sirius. It takes a little getting used to, that's all.' He held out his hand which Sirius gladly shook.

'Right then,' said Mr Weasley, pulling out his watch again. 'It must be about time. Are we waiting for anyone else, Amos?'

'No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets,' said Mr Diggory. 'There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?'

'Not that I know of,' said Mr Weasley. 'Yes, it's a minute off ... we'd better get ready ...'

He looked around at Harry and Hermione. 'You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -'

With difficulty, owing to the bulky backpacks, the eleven of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were crouching low and touching the boot from underneath. Fred, George, Cedric, Sirius, Remus and Mr Weasley formed a standing circle around them -

'Neville!' shouted Harry. 'Where's Neville?' He looked through the forest of legs and saw a figure just making its way over the crest of the hill.

'I'll get him,' said Remus letting his finger off the boot and rushing over to where Neville was panting, pulling out his wand as he went.

Harry saw Neville lift into the air, then his view was obscured. Suddenly he was in the circle.

'Come on, Neville,' said Mr Weasley, looking at his watch 'touch the boot.'

Immediately Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forwards. His feet had left the ground; he could feel Ron and Hermione on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forwards in a howl of wind and swirling colour; his forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onwards and then -

His feet slammed into the ground; Neville staggered into those who had been crouching and they all fell into a heap. The Portkey hit Ron's head with a heavy thud.

Harry looked up. Sirius, Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept, but the twins had also fallen to the ground. Remus was no where to be seen

'Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill,' said a voice.


	39. Bagman and Crouch

Harry disentangled himself from the others and got to his feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly; the man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

'Morning, Basil,' said Mr Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; Harry could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can and a punctured football.

'Hello there, Arthur,' said Basil wearily. 'Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some ... we've been here all night ... you'd better get out if the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hand on, I'll find your campsite ... Weasley ... Weasley ...' He consulted his parchment list. 'About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's call Mr Roberts. Diggory ... second field ... ask for Mr Payne.'

'Thanks, Basil,' said Mr Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him.

'What about Remus?' Harry asked as they set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist.

'Oh, I'm sure he'll have gone straight back to The Burrow,' said Mr Weasley. 'No doubt he'll Apparate over with the boys later on.'

After about thirty minutes walking, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Harry could just make out ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon. They said goodbye to the Diggorys, and approached the cottage door.

A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. Harry knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres when he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.

'Morning!' said Mr Weasley brightly.

'Morning,' said the Muggle.

'Would you be Mr Roberts?'

'Aye, I would,' said Mr Roberts. 'And who're you?'

'Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?'

'Aye,' said Mr Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. 'You've got space up by the wood there. Just the one night?'.

'That's it,' said Mr Weasley.

'You'll be paying now then?' said Mr Roberts.

'Ah - right - certainly -' said Mr Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry towards him. 'Help me, Harry,' he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. 'This one's a - a - a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now ... so this is a five?'

'A twenty,' Harry corrected him in an undertone, concerned of what Mr Roberts might think if he overheard. But Mr Roberts seemed more interested in Sirius who he was eyeing with suspicion.

'Anyone ever tell you that you look like that murderer who escaped last year?' said Mr Roberts. 'Obviously he was a scruffier looking than you, not much mind.'

'You mean the one who was cleared of all charges?' asked Sirius innocently.

'Yeah, well, he still managed to break out of a high security prison, so he's still a wrong'un if you ask me.' Mr Weasley returned with the correct notes for Mr Roberts who asked 'You foreign?'

'Foreign?' repeated Mr Weasley, puzzled.

'You're not the first one who's had trouble with money,' said Mr Roberts, scrutinising Mr Weasley closely. 'I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago.'

'Did you really?' said Mr Weasley nervously.

Mr Roberts rummaged around in a time for some change. 

'Never been this crowded,' he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. 'Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up ...'

'Is that right?' said Mr Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr Roberts didn't give it to him.

'Aye,' he said thoughtfully. 'People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking round in a kilt and poncho.'

'Shouldn't he?' said Mr Weasley anxiously.

'It's like some sort of ... I dunno ... like some sort of rally,' said Mr Roberts. 'They all seem to know each other. Like a big party.'

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr Roberts's front door.

'Obliviate!' he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr Roberts.

Instant, Mr Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unlimited and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. Harry recognised the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

'A map of the campsite for you,' Mr Roberts said placidly to Mr Weasley. 'And your change.'

'Thanks very much,' said Mr Weasley.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them towards the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted; his chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr Roberts, he muttered to Mr Weasley, 'Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a memory charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur.

He Dispparated.

'I thought Mr Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports?' said Ginny, looking surprised. 'He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?'

'He should,' said Mr Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, 'but Ludo's always been a bit ... well ... lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic Head of the Sports Department, though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best a Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had.'

They trudged through the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell-pulls, or weather-vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered to the entrance. A little further on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent which had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial and fountain.

'Always the same,' said Mr Weasley, smiling, 'we can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us.'

They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read 'Weezly'.

'Couldn't have a better spot!' said Mr Weasley happily. 'The pitch is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be.' He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. 'Right,' he said excitedly, 'no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult ... Muggles do it all the time ... so if you just get the tent out your backpack, Sirius ... we'll get it set up in no time.

'Well, Arthur,' said Sirius, placing his backpack on the floor and opening it up. 'This is one of those new-fangled pop-up tents I bought for us - state of the art and top of the range - so we should really no trouble setting it up.'

Sure enough, as soon as Sirius had pulled the material from his backpack a six-man tent sprang up across their plot.

'Wondeful!' said Mr Weasley giddily, clapping Sirius on the back. 'This will do very nicely. You know I thought we were going to have to borrow Perkins's tent, but this will be much less cramped.'

With thirteen of them sharing a six-man tent, Harry dreaded to think how small Perkins's tent might have been. Hermione seemed to have spotted the problem too; she gave Harry a quizzical look as Sirius ducked down and entered the tent.

'Come on everyone, come and take a look around,' said Mr Weasley as he followed Sirius's lead.

Harry bent down, made his way into the tent, and felt his jaw drop. He had walked into what looked like a modern high-rise apartment. They had entered into an open-plan kitchen-diner, complete with oven, sink and a fourteen seater table, and there were 7 doors off to the sides, six of which led to bedrooms, and the seventh a bathroom.

As Harry and his friends explored and chose their bedrooms, Mr Weasley made everyone a cup of tea.

Harry, Ron and Neville had the bedroom closest to the tent's entrance; it was the only room with a triple bunk bed. The twins were next door, with Bill and Charlie being left the room on the other side, nearest the bathroom. Directly opposite were the girls, who next to Sirius and Lupin. The final bedroom on the other side was where Mr Weasley was unloading and would be sharing with Percy. 

Neville took the bottom bunk in case he fell out in the night. Ron took the middle bunk as he banged his head trying to get to the top because he was so tall. This meant that Harry had the top.

'It's a bit cramped on top, sorry about that,' said Sirius, smiling from the door.

'That's all right,' said Harry. 'It's just like being back in the cupboard under the stairs. They were some of my happiest times growing up - no Dursleys in there.'

Sirius looked down, his smile fading for a moment. 'I'm sorry, Harry, if I could go back and change things. If I'd have thought for just one minute you might have been neglected all these years ...'

Harry hopped down from the bunk and gave his godfather a hug.

'You're here now,' he said.

Sirius looked at him and smiled again.

'You look so much like James, it's uncanny.'

'Except for the eyes,' laughed Harry.

'Yes, they're definitely, Lily's. Come on then you lot, Arthur's told us that we've got to go and get water for the kettle.'

'But he's already made us tea!' said Ron. 'He just used the sink!'

'I know, but he wants us to do it the Muggle way from now on. Him, Ginny and your brothers are fetching firewood, Hermione's coming with us to get the water. There's a tap marked on the map apparently.'

The three boys finished unpacking and followed Sirius out of the tent, where Hermione was waiting for them.

The sun had now risen, and the mist had lifted, revealing the tents stretched out in every direction. They made their way through the rows, staring eagerly around. It was only just dawning on Harry how many witches and wizards there must be in the works; he had never really thought much about those in other countries.

The smell of bacon and sausages wafted through the air as their fellow campers were beginning to make their breakfast. Harry noticed that whilst some of the fires seemed to have been made the Muggle way, many were not. Some, like the one three serious-looking African wizards sat around, were bright purple. Others, like the one a Far Eastern family chattered happily around, didn't even have wood. Harry caught snatches of conversation as he passed wizards and witches from all over the world, and though he couldn't understand a single word, the tone of every sing voice was excited.

'Er - is it my eyes, or has everything just gone green?' said Ron.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shapes hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen all around them. Then, from behind, they heard their names.

'Harry! Ron! Neville! Hermione!'

It was Seamus Finnigan, their fellow Gryffindor fourth-year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also a Gryffindor.

'Like the decorations?' said Seamus, grinning, when the group had gone over to say hello. 'The Ministry's not too happy.'

'Ah, the miserable gits,' said Sirius. 'Why shouldn't you show your pride?'

'That's exactly what I say,' said Mrs Finnigan. 'You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?' she added, eyeing the five of them beadily. They all assured her that they would. 'Hey, now, you're that Sirius Black fellow, aren't you?' she said, looking more closely at Sirius. 'And the Ministry's letting you wander around unaccompanied are they? With four underaged wizards I might add!'

'Yes, because you may have heard that they realised that I had not actually committed any of the crimes I'd been arrested for,' said Sirius.

'You still escaped Azkaban and snuck into Hogwarts though, didn't you. In fact you found your way into my son's dormitory - oh yes, I heard all about that. No doubt you'd have killed him if he'd woken up and seen you creeping around.'

'With all due respect madam, I don't think I would have taken such drastic action-'

'Ah, you don't think you would have, but you might have. Now be going with you, and don't be bothering us this way again!' 

The group walked off after Seamus mouthed a sorry at them.

'Well,' said Sirius once they were a little further away, 'I suppose that's something I'm just going to have to get used to, people still not trusting me.'

'My gran says people like that are idiots,' said Neville. 'She says that if Dumbledore trusts you, that should be enough for anyone.'

'Well, Neville,' said Sirius, 'your gran sounds like a very wise lady.'

In order to see what all the fuss was about with the Bulgarian tents, they made their way upfield, to a large Bulgarian flag, red, green and white, fluttering in the breeze.

The tents here were not bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same posters attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was of course moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

'Krum,' said Ron quietly.

'What?' said Hermione.

'Krum!' said Ron. 'Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!'

'He looks really grumpy,' said Hermione, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at them.

'"Really grumpy"?' Ron raised his eye to the heavens. 'Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young, too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see.'

'One great Seeker is no match for a team of magnificent players,' said Sirius, laughing at Ron's outburst.

'But the way he flies!' said Ron in awe. 'The Bulgarians might not win, but Krum is one of the all time greats!'

There was a queue for the tap in the corner of the field which they joined. In front of them was a tired looking witch with two excitable young children rubbing around in Puddlemore United robes.

'Fred and George were saying that Oliver Wood's joined their reserve team,' said Ron. 'They won the league last year.'

Wood was the Quidditch Captain, and Keeper, for Gryffindor for Harry's first three years. They finally won the Quidditch Cup at the end of Wood's final school year. Harry was glad he'd made it professionally, he had always loved the sport more than anything.

The little girl had apparently been listening in and ran up to Ron and said, 'You know someone who plays for Puddlemore United? They're the best team in the world! Joscelind Wadcock is my hero I want to be just like her when I'm older.' The girl looked thoughtfully for a moment. 'But I'm going to beat her goalscoring record. D'you think you can get me a signed Quaffle?'

'Er - I'll see what I can do ...' said Ron. The little girl beamed.

'Who's your favourite team?' she said.

'I've always supported the Chudley Cannons,' said Ron.

'The Chudley Cannons?' said the little boy who had ran over to join his sister. 'But they're rubbish!'

'Samar, Saif, leave the poor boy alone,' said their mother.

'But mum, we need to tell him where we live so he can send us a signed Puddlemore United Quaffle!' said Samar.

'We're going to be on the Quidditch team when we go to Hogwarts,' said Saif matter-of-factly. 'Samar's a Chaser but I'm going to be a Seeker like Viktor Krum!'

'My friend here is the current Gryffindor Seeker,' said Ron, pushing Harry forward and glad to move the conversation away from him. 'He's never missed a Snitch.'

'No way!' said Saif. 'That's so cool!'

Harry patiently answered all their questions as they made their way to the front of the line, giving them hints and tips, before wishing them luck.

'I dunno how you do it, mate,' said Ron once the family was out of earshot. 'If I ever have kids I'm giving them away.' Sirius gave a hearty laugh.

'James always used to say that too,' he said. 'But I'd never seen him happier than the day Harry was born.'

Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there they saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students and their families. The first of these was Oliver Wood himself. He dragged Harry over to his parents' tent to introduce him, and excitedly told him his Quidditch news at which Ron informed Oliver of the signed Quaffle that needed to be sent to Samar and Saif. Next they were hailed by Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff fourth year, who wanted to talk to Neville about a new plant she had been gifted for her birthday. There were even a couple of wizards who Sirius knew from his schooldays who shook his hand and assured him they 'knew all along you were innocent,' but they couldn't believe 'Pettigrew was a traitor, he always seemed so quiet and pleasant at school.'

Finally they made it back to the tent.

'You've been ages,' said George.

'Met a few people,' said Ron, setting the water down. 'And the queue was massive. You not got that fire started yet?'

'Dad's having fun with the matches,' said Fred.

Mr Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

'Oops!' he said, as he managed to light a match, and promptly dropped it in surprise.

'Come here, Mr Weasley,' said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and starting to show him how to do it properly.

At last, they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right next to some kind of thoroughfare to the pitch, and Ministry members kept running up and down it, greetting Mr Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry and Hermione's benefit; his own children knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.

'That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office ... here comes Gilbert Wimple, he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms, he's had those forms for a while now ... Hello, Arnie ... Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know ... and that's Bode and Croaker ... they're Unspeakables ...'

'They're what?'

'From the Department of Mysteries, top-secret, no idea what they get up to ...'

At last the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, Percy and Remus came strolling out of the woods towards them.

'Just Apparated, Dad,' said Percy loudly. 'Ah, excellent, lunch!'

'Sorry about making you miss the Portkey, Professor Lupin,' said Neville.

'Not to worry, Neville,' said Remus. 'Better I get left behind than you when I can Apparate. And I'm no longer your teacher, so call me Remus.'

They had just started to tuck into their sausage and eggs when Mr Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding towards them. 'Aha!' he said. 'The man of the moment! Ludo!'

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticable person Harry had seen so far, including Basil in his kilt and poncho combination. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal strips of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, Harry thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair and rosy complexion made him look like an overgrown schoolboy.

'Ahoy there!' Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet, and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

'Arthur, old man,' he puffed, as he reached the campfire, 'what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming ... and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements ... not much for me to do!'.

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of magical for which was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forwards with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent wavering to make a good impression.

'Ah - yes,' said Mr Weasley grinning, 'this is my son, Percy, he's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred - no, George, sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter Ginny - Ron's friends Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter - Harry's godfather Sirius Black and his good friend Remus Lupin.'

Bagman did the smallest of double-takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upwards to the scar on Harry's forehead.

'Everyone,' Mr Weasley continued, 'this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets -'

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

'Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?' he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow and black robes. 'I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Times has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match.'

'Oh ... go on, then,' said Mr Weasley. 'Let's see ... A Galleon on Ireland to win?'

'A Galleon?' Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. 'Very well, very well ... any other takers?'

'I'll take you up on that, Bagman,' said Sirius. 'What are you offering?'

Ludo didn't even pause for a moment, to consider the fact that he was talking to a former prisoner. In fact there was a smile playing upon his lips as he said, 'I'll give you odds on anything you want, sir. And please, call me Ludo, any friend of Arthur is a friend of mine!'

'Alright then, how about Troy to score first, Bulgaria to lose by only ten points and the match to last less than ninety minutes?'

'Ohoho, I'll give you very good odds on that indeed,' chuckled Ludo, pulling out a notebook and writing Sirius's bet down. 'Let's see, Troy is an obvious one to score first ... Ireland's games have been averaging at fifty-seven minutes, Bulgaria's at one hundred and thirteen, so less than ninety isn't out of the question ... but losing by only ten points ... now that's a fun little bet ... I assume you want the three as a bundle - if one loses they all lose?'

'Of course,' said Sirius, smiling.

'Very good, very good ... What's your price?'

'Shall we say twenty Galleons?'

Ludo coughed in surprise. 'Then I think these odds will work for you,' he said showing Sirius the slip he was writing. Sirius nodded in satisfaction. Bagman finilised the bet and hand Sirius the slip of parchment, then turned most cheerfully back to Me Weasley. 'Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages.'

'Mr Crouch?' said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. 'He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll ...'

'Anyone can speak Troll,' said Fred dismissively, 'all you have to do is point and grunt.'

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look, and stoned the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

'Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?' Mr Weasley asked, as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

'Not a dicky bird,' said Bagman comfortably. 'But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha ... memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll want back into the office some time in October, thinking it's July.'

'You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?' Mr Weasley suggested tentatively, as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

'Barty Crouch keeps saying that,' said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, 'but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!'

A wizard had just Apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his shirt grey hair was almost unnaturally straight and his narrow toothbrush moustache looked as though he had trimmed it using a slide-rule. His shoes were very polished. Harry could see at once why Percy idolised him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following the rules, and Mr Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed as a bank manager; Harry doubted even Uncle Vernon would have spotted him for what he really was.

'Pull up a bit of grass, Barty,' said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

'No, thank you, Ludo,' said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. 'I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box.'

'Oh, is that what they're after?' said Bagman. 'I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent.'

'Mr Crouch!' said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half bow which made him look like a hunchback. 'Would you like a cup of tea?'

'Oh,' said Mr Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. 'Yes - thank you, Weatherby.'

Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

'Oh and I've been wanting a word with you, too, Arthur,' said Mr Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr Weasley. 'Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets.'

'Hold on a minute,' Sirius interjected.

'Oh, it's you.' said Mr Crouch, sounding mildly surprised. 'What are you doing here?'

'Camping,' said Sirius with unapologetic loathing, 'and hopefully enjoying the Quidditch match later. I was after all cleared of all charges, or perhaps you didn't get the memo, Barty?' Mr Crouch shuffled uncomfortably. 'But my question is, are not curious what Percy is doing here?'

'What my employees do in their spare time is none of my business, Mr Black,' said Mr Crouch irritably.

'Yes, well, perhaps if you'd have taken an interest in those who were below you your son wouldn't have-'

'Sirius,' said Remus, cutting him off with a warning tone, as Mr Crouch reddened around the ears.

'My point is, Mr Crouch, look at Percy, then at Arthur,' Sirius continued. Mr Crouch looked blankly so Sirius added, 'Then look at Fred and George here - Ron - Bill - Charlie - little Ginny. They're all Weasleys!'

It finally dawned on Mr Crouch. 'Weatherby's one of yours, Arthur?'

'Yes, Barty. Percy's a Weasley.'

'Right - well - ahem,' said Mr Crouch looking uncomfortable. 'Well I must be off, we need to meet with the Bulgarians, Ludo. Thank you for the tea Weather - er - Weasley.'

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet again, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets clinking merrily.

'See you all later!' he said. 'You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!' He waved, Barry Crouch nodded curly, and both of them Disapparated.

'Sirius, you really need to learn when to hold your tongue,' said Remus.

'Well Crouch needs to start showing people like Percy a little respect,' said Sirius. 'You've seen how hard Percy works for him, how much time and effort he's putting into this cauldron report. The least the old git can do is learn his name!'

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable, and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing cats full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries which played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts, which really for, and collectable figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

'Been saving my pocket money all summer for this,' Ron told Harry, as they strolled through the salesmen with Hermione and Neville, buying souvenirs though Ron purchased himself a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker the miniature Krum walked backwards and forwards all over Ron's hand, scowling at the green rosette above him.

'Wow, look at these!' said Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered in all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

'Omnioculars,' said the saleswizard eagerly. 'You can replay action ... slow everything down ... and the flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each.'

'Wish I hadn't bought this now,' said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

'Four pairs,' said Harry firmly to the wizard.

'No - don't bother,' said Ron, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry, who had inherited a small fortune from his parents, had much more money than he did.'

'You won't be getting anything for Christmas,' Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his hands. 'For about ten years, mind.'

'Fair enough,' said Ron, grinning.

'Thanks, Harry,' said Neville, who had been unusually quiet since Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch had visited earlier.

'You alright?' Harry said when Hermione went to get them some programmes.

'Yeah,' said Neville. 'It's just something Sirius said about Mr Crouch's son earlier. He was one of the wizards who cursed my parents.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, Neville,' said Harry, who wasn't sure what else he could say.

'It's alright, but Sirius said something about if Mr Crouch had paid attention to his son ... and maybe if he had, he wouldn't have turned out the way he did and my parents might have stood a chance against three.'

'I don't think that would have made any difference,' said Harry. 'Look at me. The Dursleys pretend I don't exist and I'm not going to go round torturing people, am I? Dudley on the other hand ...'

Neville smiled. 'You're right,' he said.

'Great,' said Harry, 'now let's go enjoy the match!'

They regrouped with the others back at the tent. Everyone else was wearing a green rosette, and Mr Weasley was carrying a Irish Flag. Everyone except Sirius that is, who wore a red rosette and a Bulgarian scarf, the lion roaring loudly.

'It's Gryffindor colours!' he said, when Harry questioned him. 'I'm disappointed in the rest of you turncoats all in green.'

And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and, at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the pitch.

'It's time!' said Mr Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. 'Come on, let's go!'


	40. The Quidditch World Cup

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked like he was trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand, and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend. They had met before, and Fudge shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how he was, and introduced him to the wizards on either side of him.

'Harry Potter, you know,' he loudly told the Bulgarian Minister, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold, and didn't seem to understand a word of English. 'Harry Potter ... oh, come on now, you know who he is ... the boy who survived You-Know-Who ... you do know who he is-'

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

'Knew we'd get there in the end,' said Fudge wearily to Harry. 'I'm no great shakes at languages, I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat ... good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places ... ah, and here's Lucius!'

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville turned quickly. Edging along the second row to four still-empty seats right behind Mr Weasley were none other than Dobby the house-elf's old owners. Lucius Malfoy came first, then came Draco, doing his best to ignore the four of them as they watched, a woman Harry supposed must be Draco's mother followed and the fourth member of their party was none other than Potions Master, and Sirius's brother, Professor Black. He was looking like the odd one out with his pitch black hair against the Malfoys' white-blond.

'Ah, Fudge,' said Mr Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. 'How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco? Though, no doubt, you know Regulus.'

'How do you do, how do you do?' said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs Malfoy, and giving a little wave to Professor Black, who was too far away to shake hands with. 'And allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay.

It was a tense moment. Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy looked at each other and Harry vividly remembered the last time that they had come face to face; it has been in Flourish and Botts bookshop, and they had had a fight. Mr Malfoy's cold grey eyes swept over Mr Weasley, and then up and down the row.

'Good Lord, Arthur,' he said softly. 'What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said 'Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St Mungo's Hospital for Magic Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest.'

'How - how nice,' said Mr Weasley, with a very strained smile.

'And as you know his brother,' Fudge continued, 'I'm sure you must be familiar with Sirius Black as well, Lucius.'

'Lucius and I have never formally met, Prime Minister,' said Sirius, who had been watching warily. 'Reggie and I always did run in different circles, as I'm sure you're aware. And I don't think I've seen dear cousin Sissy since the 70s when I was banished from even the family Christmas Lunch. And no one deemed it appropriate to visit me in Azkaban over all those years.'

Fudge shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 'Well, right, yes,' he said. 'How wonderful to be able to reunite after all these years.'

'Yes,' agreed Lucius, taking his seat. 'And how wonderful you finally had the chance to renounce the Dark Lord. I hear Amelia Bones lead a very fair and proper trial.'

'Oh, yes, she did,' said Sirius. 'A lovely lady, I must say. However, unlike others, I had nothing to ever renounce. I hope you all enjoy the game.' With an attempt at a polite smile Sirius turned around to face the pitch one more. Throughout everything Professor Black had remained silent and still, giving nothing away to betray his emotions. But Harry had been watching Draco intently, who looked uncomfortable as he sat between his parents, taking great care to not look at Harry or his friends.

Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

'Evreyone ready?' he said, his round face gleaming like a great excited Exam, his enthusiasm dispelling any residual tension. 'Minister - ready to go?'

'Ready when you are, Ludo,' said Fudge comfortably 

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat and said 'Sonorous!' and the spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands: 'Ladies and gentlemen ... welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!'

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans - a Risk with Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO.

'And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce ... the Bulgarian Team Mascots!'

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

'I wonder what they've brought?' said Mr Weasley, leaning towards in his seat. 'Aaah!' He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. 'Veela!'

'What are Veel-'

But a hundred Veela were now gliding out onto the pitch and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women ... the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen ... except that they weren't - the couldn't be - human. This puzzled Harry for a moment, while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, is their white gold hair fan out behind them without wind ... but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human - in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all.

The Veela had started to dance, and Harry's mind had gone completely and blissfully blank. All that mattered in the world was that he kept watching the Veela, because if they stopped dancing, terrible things would happen ...

And as the Veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chatting through Harry's dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea ... but would it be good enough?

'Harry, what are you doing?' said Hermione's voice from a long way off.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked at though he was about to dive from a springboard. Harry was very conscious of Sirius, rolling around in mirth at the two of them.

Angry yells filled the stadium. The crowd didn't want to see the Veela go. Harry was with them; he would, of course, be supporting Bulgaria, and he wondered vaguely why he had a large green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron, meanwhile, was absent-mindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr Weasley, smiling slightly, leant over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

'You'll be wanting that,' he said, 'once Ireland have had their say.'

'Huh?' said Ron, starting open-mouthed at the Veela, who had now lined up along one side of the pitch.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. She reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat, next to Neville, who seemed not to have been affected. 'Honestly!'she said.

As those who had been affected by the Veela settled themselves back into their seats, Sirius pulled out a bag of sweets which he began offering the row.

'Anyone for a Bertie Bott? A Chocolate Frog?' he said.

'And now,' roared Ludo Bagman's voice, 'kindly put your wands in the air ... for the Irish National Team Mascots!'

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet had come zooming into the stadium, then split two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it -

'Excellent!' yelled Ron, as the shamrock soared over their heads, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Harry realised it was actually committed of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red waistcoats, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

'Leprechauns!' said Mr Weasley, over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve gold.

'There you go,' Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful if gold coins into Harry's hand. 'For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!'

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the pitch on the opposite side from the Veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

'And now, ladies and gentlemen,' said Ludo, who was now floating a couple of inches out of his seat after using the leprechauns' display to eat a couple of Sirius's Fizzing Whizbees, 'kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!'

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

'Ivanova!'

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

'Zograd! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!'

'That's him, that's him!' yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars; Harry quickly focused his own.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

'Minister,' said Sirius, 'I actually brought some homemade fudge for you.' He pulled out a box of fudge, across the front of which he'd written 'Cornelius's Fudge'. The Minister of Magic chuckled heartily at this and thanked Sirius as he took his gift, sharing it with his Bulgarian counterpart who seemed to enjoy the treat a lot.

'And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!' yelled Bagman. 'Presenting- Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaaand - Lynch!'

Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch; Harry spun a small dial on the side of his Omnioculars, and slowed the players down enough to read the word 'Firebolt' on each of their brooms, and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

'Reggie,' said Sirius, turning his attention to his brother. 'You always used to like toffees - here you go.' He passed Professor Black a little round toffee wrapped in a shiny red wrapper. 'I've got more where that came from if you like it.'

Professor Black accepted the toffee with a stiff 'Thanks' and put it in his pocket for later.

'And here, all the way from Egypt,' continued Ludo,' our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!'

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the pitch. A silver whistle protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mind his broomstick and kicked the crate open - for balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the miniscule, winged, Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

'Theeeeeeeey're OFF!' screamed Bagman. 'And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!'

It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his eyes that his glasses were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to each other so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Harry spun the 'slow' dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the 'play by play' button on the top and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses, and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums.

'Hawkshead Attacking Formation' he read, as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the centre, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. 'Porskoff Play' flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upwards with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chat Ivanova, and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swing hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it -

'TROY SCORES!' roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. 'Ten-zero to Ireland!'

'What?' Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. 'But Levski's got the Quaffle!'

'Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!' shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap if honour of the pitch. Harry looked quickly over the top of his Omnioculars, and saw that the leprechauns watching from the side-lines had all risen into the air again, and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the pitch, the Veela were watching sulkily.

Furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed.

'That's one for me, Ludo,' said Sirius, though if Bagman heard him, he made no show of it as he continued his commentary.

Harry knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless yeah, appearing to read each other's mind by the way they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harry's chest kept squeaking their names: 'Troy - Mullet - Moran!' And within ten minutes, Ireland had scores twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero, and causing thunderous applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks, dodge the Keeper, Ryan, and score Bulgaria's first goal.

'Fingers in your ears!' bellowed Mr Weasley, as the Veela started to dance in celebration. Harry screwed up his eyes, too; he wanted to keep his mind on the game. After a few seconds he chanced a glance at the pitch. The Veela had stopped dancing and Bulgaria were again in possession of the Quaffle.

'Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh, I say!' roared Bagman.

One hundred thousand wizards and witches gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast it looked as though they had jumped from aeroplanes without parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was -

'They're going to crash!' screamed Hermione next to Harry. She was half-right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiralled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge grown rose from the Irish seats.

'Fool!' moaned Mr Weasley. 'Krum was feinting!'

'It's time out!' yelled Bagman's voice. 'As trained mediwizards hurry into the pitch to examine Aidan Lynch!'

'He'll be OK, he only got ploughed!' Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. 'Which is what Krum was after, of course ...'.

Harry hastily pressed the 'replay' and 'play by play' buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and out them back up to his eyes 

He watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. 'Wronski Feint - dangerous Seeker diversion' read the shining purple lettering across the lenses. He saw Krum's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and he understood - Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. Harry had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that it looked as though he was unsupported and weightless. Harry turned his Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was circling high above Lynch, who was now being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Harry, focusing still more closely on Krum's face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch recovered to look for the Snitch without interference.

All of a sudden Harry's attention a was pulled away from the pitch as there was a commotion in the row behind him. He turned his head and saw Professor Black's tongue swelling in size. He must have eaten the toffee Sirius had given him.

'For goodness sake, Sirius,' said Remus, pulling his wand out. 'Can't you behave?'

'Sorry, I can't imagine how one of the Ton-Tongue Toffees got in here,' said Sirius, shaking his sweet bag. Bagman had to stifle his laughter so it didn't boom across the stands lest the Irish fans thought he was laughing at Lynch's injury.

'Reducio!' said Remus, and Professor Black's tongue began to reduce back to its normal size.

'Pepped Imp?' Sirius offered his brother, who just scowled and turned his attention back to the pitch.

Lynch had got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Harry had seen so far. After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot towards the goalposts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Harry didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast told him it had been a foul.

'And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing - excessive use of elbows!' Bagman informed the roaring spectators. 'And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!'

(GOF 99-105)

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aidan Lynch in the back of Connolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his throat and muttered 'Quietus'.

'They'll be talking about this one for years,' he said hoarsely, 'a really unexpected twist, that ... shame it couldn't have lasted longer ...'

'Well, exactly,' said Sirius grinning. 'Another seven minutes and I'd have lost the bet.'

'Ah yes ...' said Bagman. 'Yes, I owe you ... how much?'


	41. The Dark Mark

'So how did you manage to smuggle the toffees in?' Fred was asking Sirius in awe.

'Well, boys, after yesterday's events I figured your mother might try and weasel out any other toffees we might have,' said Sirius, 'so I put anti-theft charms on the ones you gave to me. Sample sizes are important when testing products, after all!'

'Well, I just hope your mother doesn't find out,' said Mr Weasley.

'Arthur, if Molly manages to get wind of it, then it's my fault, not the boys'. Just a friendly bit of fun between brothers, after all.'

'Perhaps you can choose a less public space to be brotherly in,' said Remus.

'I'll bear that in mind, Moony,' said Sirius striding off to put his arms around Fred and George conspiratorially. 'But this investor is very impressed with the consistency of product.'

Mr Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what Sirius was investing in, but decided, on reflection, that he didn't want to know.

They were soon caught up with the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singi was borne towards them on the night air as they retraced the steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping and, given the level of noise around them, Mr Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match. Mr Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, Sirius had stolen Ron's Viktor Krum model and was reenacting the Wronksi Feint, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays, and insisted that everyone went to bed. They all made their way to their separate rooms and settled down. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing, and the odd echoing bang.

Harry lay on the top bunk staring up at the ceiling, picturing again some of Krum's more spectacular moves. He was itching to get back on his own Firebolt and try out the Wronski Feint ... somehow Oliver Wood had never managed to convey with all his wriggling diagrams what that move was supposed to look like ... Harry saw himself in robes that had his name on the back, and imagined the sensation of hearing a hundred thousand strong crowd roar, as Ludo Bagman's voice echoed throughout the stadium, 'I give you ... Potter!"

Harry never knew whether he had actually dropped off to sleep or not - his fantasies of flying like Krum might well have slipped into actual dreams - all he knew was that, quite suddenly, Mr Weasley was shouting.

'Get up! Ron - Harry - Neville - come on now, get up, this is urgent!' Harry sat up quickly and his head hit the ceiling.

"S'matter?' he said, rubbing his new bump.

Dimly, he could tell that something was wrong. The noises the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. He could hear screams, and the sound of people running.

He slipped down from the bunk, and reached for his clothes, but Mr Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pyjamas, said, 'No time, Harry - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!'

Harry did as he was told, and hurried out of the tent, Ron and Neville at his heels. By the light of the few fires that were still burning, he could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field towards them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter and drunken yells were drifting towards them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upwards, was marching slow across the field. Harry squinted at them ... they didn't seem to have faces ... then he realised that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in mid-air, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small. 

More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumbled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Harry saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as passed over a burning tent, and Harry recognised one of them - Mr Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked though they might be his wife and children. One of marchers below flipped Mrs Roberts upside-down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

'That's sick,' Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head bobbing limply from side to side. 'That is really sick.'

Hermione and Ginny came hurrying towards them, pulling coats over their nightdresses, with Mr Weasley right behind them. Next followed Sirius, Remus, Bill, Charlie and Percy, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out. 

'We're going to help the Ministry,' Mr Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. 'You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!'

Sirius, Remus, Bill, Charlie and Percy were already sprinting away towards the incoming marchers; Mr Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction towards the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer. 

'C'mon,' said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her towards the wood. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever, they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The coloured lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees, children were crying, anxious shouts and panicked cries were reverberating around them in the cold night air, Harry felt himself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces he could not see. Then he heard Ron yell with pain.

'What happened?' said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. 'Ron, where are you? Oh, this is stupid - Lumos!' She illuminated her wand and directed its narrow beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.

'Tripped over a tree-root,' he said angrily getting to his feet again. 

'I thought Neville was the clumsy one,' came a voice from behind them.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby them, eyes darting nervously around, as if he would be punished if caught speaking to them.

'You'd better keep moving,' he said. 'Hermione won't be safe if they catch her.'

Not for the first time Harry found himself confused by his one-time rival. After disappearing from Hogwarts, not replying to any of the letters he'd sent, and ignoring them earlier at the Quidditch World Cup, here was Draco offering advice, as if he was concerned for their safety.

'What are you doing here?' said Ron, suspiciously. Unlike Harry he had never even slightly warmed to Draco. 'Didn't want to join your parents in torturing Muggles?'

From Draco's silence Harry gathered there may be more truth to Ron's barb than was intended. 

'Look, just head deep into the woods and you should be safe,' he said to them, before turning away from them, as if to watch the torture continue.

Walking away from Draco, Fred, George and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all of them looking nervously their shoulders towards the commotion back at the campsite. 

A huddle of teenagers in pyjamas were arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw the four friends a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly 'Ou est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue -'

'Er-what?' said Ron.

'Oh ...' The girl who had spoken turned her back on him and as they walked on, they distinctly heard her say ''Ogwarts.'

'Beauxbatons,' muttered Hermione

'Sorry?' said Harry.

'They must go to Beauxbatons,' said Hermione. 'You know, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic ... I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe.'

'Oh ... yeah ... right' said Harry.

'Fred and George can't have gone that far,' said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione, and squinting up the path.

'Good idea,' said Harry, reaching into his jacket and following suit.

'Er ... guys ...' said Neville. 'I've lost my wand.' They turned to see him frantically patting himself down.

'Did you leave it in the tent?' asked Harry.

'Maybe, but I thought I'd left it in my jacket pocket earlier,' said Neville.

'When did you last see it?' said Hermione.

'Dunno,' Neville said. 'I'm sure I had it with me before the match ... I hope I've not left it in the box. It was my dad's wand, Gran'll kill me!'

A sudden rustling noise made all three of them jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible was trying to hold her back. 

'There is bad wizards about,' she squeaked distractedly as she leant forwards and laboured to keep running. 'People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!' And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

'What's up with her?' said Ron, looking curiously at Winky. 'Why can't she run properly?' 

'Bet she didn't ask permission to hide,' said Harry. He was thinking of Dobby: every time he had tried to do something the Malfoys wouldn't like, he had been forced to start beating himself up.

'You know, house-elves get a very raw deal,' said Hermione indignantly 'It's slavery, that's what it is. That Mr Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it.'

'Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?' Ron said. You heard of Winky back at the match ... "house-elves is not supposed to have fun" ... that's what she likes, being bossed around.'

'It's people like you, Ron,' Hermione began hotl, 'who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to -'

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

'Let's just keep moving, shall we?' said Ron, and Harry saw him glance slightly at Hermione. Perhaps there was truth in what Draco had said; perhaps Hermione was in more danger on they were. They set off again.

They followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George and Ginny. They saw a young Bulgarian family running deeper into the woods, the dad carrying the youngest son, who was wearing Viktor Krum pyjamas. Further still along the path, they walked into a patch of silvery light, and when they looked through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful Veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

'I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year, one of them shouted. 'I'm a dragon-killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.'

'No, you're not,' yelled his friend, 'you're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron ... but I'm a Vampire Hunter, I've killed about ninety so far-'

A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim silvery light of the Veela, now cut in, 'I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister for Magic, I am.'

Hey snorted wih laughter. He recognised the pimply wizard; he was Stan Shunpike, and he was in fact a conductor on the triple-decker Knight Bus. He turned to tell Ron this, but Ron's face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron was yelling, 'Did i tell you I've invented a broomick that'll teach Jupiter?'

'Honestly!' said Hermione again, as she and Neville grabbed Ron firmly by the arms, wheeled him around and marched him away. By the time the sounds of the Verla and their admirers had faded completely, they were in the very heart of the wood. They seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter.

Harry looked around. 'I reckon we can just wait here, you know, we'll hear anyone coming a mile off.'

The words were hardly out of his mouth, when Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them. 

Even by the feeble light of the three wands, Harry cold see that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained. 

'Who's that?' he said, blinking down at them, trying to make out their faces. 'What are you doing in here, all alone?'

They looked at each other, surprised. 

'Well - there's a sort of riot going on,' said Ron.

Bagman stared at him. 'What?'

'On the campsite ... some people have got hold of a family of Muggles ...'

Bagman swore loudly. 'Damn them!' he said, looking distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop.

'Not exactly on top of things, Mr Bagman, is he?' said Hermione, frowning.

'He was a great Beater, though,' said Ron, leading the way the path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. 'The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them.'

He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket down on the ground and watched it walk around for a while. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. Harry was listening out for noise the campsite. Everything seemed quiet: perhaps the riot was over.

'I've had a thought about Neville's wand. It might not work, but it's worth a shot,' said Hardy after a while. He lifted his wand and said 'Accio Neville's wand!'

The four friends waited with baited breath, but nothing happened.

'Thanks Harry,' said Neville. 'But don't worry, I'm sure it's back in the tent.'

'I hope the others are OK,' said Hermione. 

'They'll be fine,' said Ron. 

'Yeah, maybe,' came a reedy voice, 'or maybe not.'

The four friends jumped up. Coming into the clearing was a tall and stringy boy, who Harry recognised as a fellow Hogwarts four-year; it was the Slytherin, Theodore Nott.

'What are you trying to say?' said Ron.

But Nott never had the chance to say anything as something hit him on the back of his head, knocking him to the floor. That something was Winky the House-Elf, and in her hand -

'My wand!' shouted Neville.

Winky had let go of the wand and fell to the floor with Nott, but the wand continued it's path towards Harry, who deftly caught it, and handed it to Neville.

'What were you doing with Neville's wand, Winky?' asked Hermione.

'I was finding it, madam' shrieked Winky nervously, her eyes as wide as saucers. 'Winky saw it in the floor of the high high box, madam, and is thinking 'this is belonging to a very important wizard so Winky should find the owner' - but everyone else was gone, madam, so Winky thought she should give it to Master Crouch who would find the rightful wand owner, madam.'

'Thank you, Winky,' said Neville.

'And you've held onto it all this time?' said Ron.

'Yes, sir, for safe keeping, sir, until I saw Master Crouch, sir.'

'Why the hell are you talking with the elf?' said Nott, who had stood up, dusted himself down and was holding his wand out. 'That looked like a fun trick, Harry. Accio Neville's wand!'

Neville was pulled along for a moment, until his wand pulled itself out of his grip and flew into Nott's outstretched hand, who then flung it backwards into the woods behind him.

'Expelliarmus!' shouted Harry, Ron and Hermione in unison. Nott was hit by three red flashes of light and thrown backwards against a tree, his wand flying high into the air. Nott was on the ground again, this time unconscious.

'Well, at least it's not gone far,' said Harry to Neville, 'and we know how to get it back this time!'

But before he could cast the summoning spell once more, they heard a man's voice in the trees cast what sounded like spell of his own.

'MORSMORDRE!'

And something very, green and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness of the surrounding woods: it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

'What the -?' haired Ron, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

For a split second, Harry thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then he realised that it was a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rise higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with scream. Harry didn't understand why, but the only possible cause the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood, like some grisly neon sign. He scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but he couldn't see anyone.

'Who's there?' he called.

'Harry, come on, move!' Hermione had seized the back of his jacket, and was tugging him backwards. 

'What's the matter?' Harry said, startled to see her face white and terrified. 

'It's the Dark Mark, Harry,' Hermione moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. 'You-Know-Who's sign!' 

'Voldemort's?'

'Harry, come on!'

Harry turned - Ron was trying to get Neville to move, but he was rooted to the spot in terror. Winky was already running off into the trees.

'C'mon mate,' said Ron, 'we'll find your wand later, but we've got to go!'

But before they could take even a single step, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

Harry whirled around, and in a split second, he registered the fact each of these wizards had his wand out, and every one was pointing right at himself, Ron, Hermione and Neville. Without pausing to think he yelled, 'DUCK!' He barreled into the other three and pushed them down onto the ground. 

'STUPEFY' roared twenty voices. There was a blinding series of flashes and Harry felt the hair on his head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising his head a fraction of an inch he saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards' wands, crossing each other, bouncing off tree-trunks, rebounding into darkness -

'Stop!' yelled a voice he recognised. 'STOP! That's my son!'

Harry's hair stopped blowing about. He raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw Mr Weasley striding towards them, looking terrified.

'Ron - Harry -' his voice sounded shaky, '- Hermione - Neville - are you all right?'

'Out of the way, Arthur,' said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Harry got to his feet to face them. Mr Crouch's face was taut with rage. 

'Which of you did it?' he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. 'Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?' 

'We didn't do that!' said Harry, gesturing up at the skull. 

'We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow, and looking indignantly at his father. 'What did you want to attack us for?'

'Do not lie, sirl' shouted Mr Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping - he looked slightly mad. 'You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!'

'Over here, who's this?' called a wizard in Ireland green robes. He was kneeling next to Nott. 'Breathing, but unconscious,' he confirmed.

'What did you do to him?' asked Mr Crouch. 'Did you attack him, then think it would be funny to send up the Dark Mark?'

'Barty,' whispered a witch in a long woollen dressing-gown, 'they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to -' 

'Where did the Mark come from you three?' said Mr Weasley quickly.

'Over there,' said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice, 'there was someone behind the trees... they shouted words - an incantation -'

'Oh, stood over there, did they? said Mr Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. 'Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy -'

But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron, Hermione or Neville had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had raised all their wands again, and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, beyond Nott, and squinting through the dark trees.

'We're too late,' said the witch in the woollen dressing-gown shaking her head. 'They'll have Disapparated.' 

'I don't think so,' said a wizard with a scrubby brown beanie. It was Amos Diggory: Cedric's father. 'Our Stunners went right through those trees ... there's a good chance we got them ...' 

'Amos, be careful' said a few of the wizards warningly, as Mr Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth

A few seconds later, they heard Mr Diggory shout. 

'Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but-blimey ...'

'You've got someone?' shouted Mr Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. 'Who? Who is it?' 

They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr Diggory re-emerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. Harry recognised the tea-towel at once. It was Winky. 

Mr Crouch did not move or speak as Mr Diggory deposited Mr Crouch's elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

'This - cannot - be,' he said jerkily. 'No -'

He moved quickly around Mr Diggory and strode off towards the place where he had found Winky. 

'No point, Mr Crouch,' Mr Diggory called after him. 'There's no one else there.'

But Mr Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around, the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

'Bit embarrassing," Mr Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. 'Barty Crouch's house-elf ... I mean to say ...'

'Come off it, Amos,' said Mr Weasley quietly, 'you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand.'

'Yeah,' said Mr Diggory, 'and she had a wand.'

'What?' said Mr Weasley

'Here, look.' Mr Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr Weasley. 

'But Winky was with us when the Mark was conjured,' said Hermione, defensively. 'She ran into the woods in fear after it was cast!'

'She still had the wand in her hand. So that clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand.'

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upwards at the emerald green skull.

'The Dark Mark!' he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. 'Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?'

Mr Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush moustache were both twitching. 

'Where have you been, Barty?' said Bagman. 'Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat, too - Gulping gargoyles!' Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. 'What happened to her?'

'I have been busy, Ludo,' said Mr Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. 'And my elf has been Stunned.'

'Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why -?'

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky and then at Mr Crouch.

'No!' he said. 'Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand for a start!'

'And she had one,' said Mr Diggory. 'I found her holding one, Ludo.'

'But I told you, she was with us when the Mark was cast!' shouted Hermione.

'If it's all right with you, Mr Crouch, I think we should hear what she got to say for herself,' said Mr Diggory.

Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr Diggory, bur M. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised ha own wand, pointed it at Winky and said, 'Enervate!

Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position. She caught sight of Mr Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously raised her eyes to stare up into his face, then, more slowly stl she looked up into the sky. Harry could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp: looked wildly around the crowded clearing and burst into terrified sobs.

'Elf,' said Mr Diggory sternly. 'Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!'

Winky began to rock backwards and forwards on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Harry was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.

'As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago,' said Mr Diggory. 'And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!'

'I-I-I is not doing it, sir!' Winky gasped. 'I is not knowing how, sir!'

'You were found with a wand in your hand!' barked Mr Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, Harry recognised it.

'Hey - that's Neville's!' he said. Everyone in the clearing looked at him, and then at Neville.

'Excuse me?' said Mr Diggory, incredulously. 

'That's Neville's wand! He stole it off of him,' said Harry, pointing at Nott's unconscious body, 'and threw it into the woods!'

'You had it stolen, by this unconscious boy?' repeated Mr Diggory in disbelief, looking at Neville. Or maybe you attacked this poor boy and threw the wand aside after you conjured the Mark?'

'Amos, think who you're talking to,' said Mr Weasley, angrily. 'Is Neville Longbottom - are any of these children - likely to conjure the Dark Mark?'

'Er - of course not,' mumbled Mr Diggory. 'Sorry ... carried away ...' His eyes hardened and he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. 'So, you found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?'

'I is not doing magic with it, sir!' squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. 'I is ... I is ... I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir! I is not knowing how!'

'It wasn't her!' said Hermione. 'I've told you, she was with us! Besides which, it was a deep voice, a man's voice that we heard doing the incantation.' She looked round at Harry, Ron and Neville, appealing for their support. 'It didn't sound anything like Winky's squeak, did it?'

'No,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'It definitely didn't sound like an elf.'

'Yeah, it was a human voice,' said Ron. 

'And Winky was here with us all the time,' said Neville.'

'Well, you five seem to have a story sorted, growled Mr Diggory, looking unimpressed. 'But there's a witness yet to speak.' He walked over to Theodore Nott and said, 'Enervate!' once more, and Nott stirred. 

Nott looked up in horror at all the faces around him.

'Wh-what's going on?' he asked nervously.

'There's no need to be afraid, young man. My name is Amos Diggory, can you remember yours?'

'N-nott ... Theodore Nott ...'

Murmurs rippled through the crowd of older wizards.

'Well, Mr Nott,' said Mr Diggory. 'Can you tell us what the last thing you remember was?'

Nott's eyes darted around, firstly to Harry and his friends, then at all the adults that surrounded them, next up towards the Dark Mark still looming high in the sky, and finally back to Mr Diggory.

'I - er - was running with everyone else, away from ... well ... you know ...' said Nott. 'My dad was with me but we got split up, and I ran into this clearing and saw those four and all of a sudden they ... they ... they attacked me. And that's the last thing I remember.'

Harry stared in disbelief at Nott's barefaced lie.

'Thank you,' said Mr Diggory, before turning back to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville. 'So you have been lying? Perhaps you have been trying to protect the elf? Well there's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, did you know that?'

Mr Diggory raised his wand again, and placed it tip to tip with Neville's.

"Prior Incantato!' roared Mr Diggory.

Harry heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent Tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them, it looked as though it was made of thick grey smoke: the ghost of a spell.

'Deletrius!' Mr Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke. 

'So,' said Mr Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

'I is not doing it!' she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. 'I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!'

'You've been caught red-handed, elf!' Mr Diggory roared. 'Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!'

'Amos,' said Mr Weasley loudly, 'think about it .. precious few wizards know how to do that spell ... where would she have learnt it?'

'Perhaps Amos is suggesting,' said Mr Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, 'that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?'

There was a deeply unpleasant silence.

Amos Diggory looked horrified. 'Mr Crouch ... not ... not at all ... '

'You have now come very close to accusing two people in this clearing who are amongst the least likely to conjure that Mark!' barked Mr Crouch. 'Neville Longbottom - and myself! I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos? Or perhaps you'd like to accuse Harry Potter next?'

'No, no - of course not,' muttered Mr Diggory looking highly discomfited. 

'And I trust you remember the many proofs I have over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practise them?' Mr Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

'Mr Crouch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it,' muttered Amos Diggory, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard. 

'If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!' shouted Mr Crouch. 'Where else would she have learnt to conjure it?'

'She - she might've picked it up anywhere -'

'Precisely, Amos,' said Mr Weasley. 'She might have picked it up anywhere ... Winky?' he said kindly turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he, too, was shouting at her. 'Where exactly did you find Neville's wand?' Winky was twisting the hem of her tea-towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

'I - I is finding it ... finding it there, sir ...' she whispered, 'there ... in the trees, sir ...'

'You see, Amos?" said Mr Weasley. 'Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Neville's wand behind. I trust these children to be telling the truth when they say Winky was with them at the time of the conjuring. I assume they attacked Mr Nott here under the assumption that he startled them when he came through the clearing and did so only in self-protection ...'

He looked at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville, who nodded, realising he was helping them out of what could be an awkward situation. Nott scowled, but did not argue.

'And what a clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up, whilst fleeing, scared.

'But then, she'd have been feet away from the real culprit!' said Mr Diggory impatiently. 'Elf? Did you see anyone?'

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr Diggory to Ludo Bagman, and on to Mr Crouch. Then she gulped, and said, 'I is seeing no one, sir, no one.'

'Amos,' said Mr Crouch curtly, 'I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her.'

Mr Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to Harry that Mr Crouch was an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

'You may rest assured that she will be punished,' Mr Crouch added coldly.

'M-m-master ...' Winky stammered, looking up at Mr Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. 'M-m-master, p-p-please ...'

Mr Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze. 'Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible,' he said slowly. 'I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes.' 

'No!' shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr Crouch's feet. 'No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!'

Harry knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea-towel as she sobbed over Crouch's feet.

'But she was frightened!' Hermione burst out angrily glaring at Mr Crouch. 'Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards with masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!'

Mr Crouch took a step backwards, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she was something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

'I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me, he said coldly, looking up at Hermione. ' have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her masters reputation.'

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr Weasley, who said quietly. 'Well, I think I'll take my lot back the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wands to us all it can - if Neville could have it back, please -'

Mr Diggory handed Neville his wand and Neville pocketed it.

'Come on, you three,' Mr Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move: her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. 'Hermione!' Mr Weasley said, more urgently. She turned and followed Harry, Ron and Neville out of the clearing and off through the trees.

'What's going to happen to Winky?' said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing.

'I don't know,' said Mr Weasley.

'The way they were treating her!' said Hermione furiously. 'Mr Diggory, calling her "elf" all the time ... and Mr Crouch. He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didnt care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was - it was like she wasn't even human!' 

'Well, she's not,' said Ron.

Hermione rounded on him. 'That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron, it's disgusting the way -'

'Hermione, I agree with you,' said Mr Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, 'but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?'

'We lost them in the dark,' said Ron. 'Dad, why was every one so uptight about that skull thing?'

'I'll explain everything back at the tent,' said Mr Weasley tensely. But when they reached the edge of the wood, their progress was impeded.

A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr Weasley coming towards them, many of them surged forwards. 'What's going on in there?' 'Who conjured it?' 'Arthur-it's not – him?'

'Of course it's not him,' said Mr Weasley impatiently. 'We don't know who it was, it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed.'

He led Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking

Sirius was pacing frantically in front of the tent when they arrived. He raced towards them when he saw them.

'HARRY!' he yelled pulling him into his arms and clasping him tightly, knocking the wind out of him. 'Thank Merlin you're all right! All of you!' He let Harry go and stood to look at Mr Weasley. 'The others got back Arthur, we're all safe.'

'Thank you, Sirius,' said Mr Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Everyone else followed behind him.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. Remus seemed to have added another couple of scars to his face. Fred, George and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken.

'Did you get them, Dad?' said Bill sharply. 'The person who conjured the Mark?'

'No,' said Mr Weasley. 'We found Barty Crouch's elf with Neville's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark.'

'What?' said Bill, Charlie and Percy together. 

'Neville's wand?' said Fred.

'Mr Crouch's elf?' said Percy, sounding thunderstruck

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville Mr Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

'Well, Mr Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!' he said. 'Running away when he'd expressly told her not to ... embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry ... how would that have looked, if she'd been had up in front of Department for the Regulation and Control -'

'She didn't do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!' Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others.

'Hermione, a wizard in Mr Crouch's position cant aflond house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!' said Pery pompously, recovering himself. 

'She didn't run amok!' shouted Hermione. 'She just picked up off the ground and was trying to find it's rightful owner.'

'What I don't understand is,' said Sirius, 'If she found Neville's wand after the match, but Mr Crouch told her to remain in the tent ... well, why was she holding onto it when Harry summoned Neville's wand?'

They sat in silence, mulling over what Sirius had said. Even Hermione didn't have a defence for that. 

'Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?' said Ron impatiently, 'It wasn't hurting anyone ... why's it such a big deal?'

'I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron,' said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. 'I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.'

'And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years,' said Mr Weasley quietly, his eyes darting towards Neville. 'Of course people panicked. You-Know-Who back again.'

'I don't get it,' said Ron, frowning. 'I mean... it's still only a shape in the sky ...' 

'Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed,' said Mr Weasley. 

'Or tortured,' said Neville quietly.

'Yes ... quite ...' said Mr Weasley. 'The terror it inspired ... you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home, and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside ...' Mr Weasley winced. 'Everyone's worst fear... the very worst ...'

There was silence for a moment.

Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, 'Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertsons before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now.'

'Death Eaters?' said Harry. 'What are Death Eaters?' 

'It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves.' said Bill. 'I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway.'

'We can't prove it was them, Bill,' said Mr Weasley. 'Though it probably was, he added hopelessly. 

'Yeah, I bet it was!' said Ron suddenly. 'Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and I'm pretty sure his dad was one of the nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-know-Who!'

'But what were Voldemort's supporters -' Harry began. Everybody flinched - like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys always avoided saying Voldemort's name. 'Sorry,' said Harry quickly, 'What were You Know-Who's supporters up to levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?' 

'The point? said Mr Weasley, with a hollow laugh. 'Harry, this is their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them,' he finished disgustedly.

'But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disappear when they saw the Dark Mark?' said Ron. 'They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?'

'Use your brains, Ron,' said Bill. 'If they really were Death Eaters, they worked really hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives... I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?' 

'So ... whoever conjured the Dark Mark ' said Hermione slowly, 'were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?'

'Who can say, Hermione,' said Remus. 'But it was certainly a Death Eater conjured it. They're the only ones who ever knew how to.'

'Listen, it's very late,' said Mr Weasley, 'and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. Well get a few more hours sleep and then try to get an early Portkey out of here.'

As everyone else went back to bed, Sirius pulled Harry to the side.

'How's the scar?' he asked.

'Fine,' said Harry. He couldn't believe it had only been three days ago - it felt like much longer, but it had only been three days - when he had awoken with his scar burning. And tonight, for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort Mark had appeared in the sky. What did these things mean?

'Good,' said Sirius. 'I don't know if the events tonight are connected to the pain you felt the other, but if it's not currently causing you discomfort, that can only be a good thing.'

He gave Harry another comforting hug, then steered him to his room.

'Come on, bedtime, before I get in trouble!' Sirius said. Harry got on the top bunk, his head buzzing. He could hear Neville snoring away beneath him, and soon he too had dozed off.


	42. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

Mr Weasley woke them after only a few hours' sleep. He used magic to pack up the tent, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague 'Merry Christmas'.

'He'll be all right,' said Mr Weasley quietly, as they marched off onto the moor. 'Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes them a bit disorientated for a while ... and that was a big thing they had to make him forget.'

They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay and, when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamouring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tyre back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St Catchpole towards The Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner in the lane, and The Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the damp lane.

'Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!' Mrs Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them m the front yard, came running towards them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a screwed-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand. 'Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried-'

She lung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Harry saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling, black and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the tree-tops. 

'You're all right,' Mrs Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, 'you're alive ... oh, boys ...'

And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

'Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us-'

'I shouted at you before you left!' Mrs Weasley said, starting to sob. 'It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.Ls? Oh, Fred ... George ...'

'Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly OK,' said Mr Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back towards the house. 'Bill,' he added in an undertone, 'pick up that paper, I want to see what it says ...' 

When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Sirius had made Mrs Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhisky, to no argument from anyone, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder. 

'I knew it,' said Mr Weasley heavily. 'Ministry blunders ... culprits not apprehended ... lax security ... Dark wizards running unchecked ... national disgrace ... Who wrote this? Ah, of course ... Rita Skeeter.'

That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!' said Percy furiously. 'Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non Wizard Part-Humans -'

'Do us a favour, Perce,' said Bill, yawning, 'and shut up.'

'I'm mentioned,' said Mr Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article. 'Where?' spluttered Mrs Weasley, choking on her tea and whisky. 'If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!'

'Not by name,' said Mr Weasley. 'Listen to this: "If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark, alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later remains to be seen." Oh, really,' said Mr Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. 'Nobody was hurt, what was I supposed to say? Rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods ... well, there certainly will be rumours now she's printed that.' He heaved a deep sigh. 'Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office, this is going to take some smoothing over.'

'I'll come with you, Father,' said Percy importantly. 'Mr Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person.'

He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs Weasley looked most upset. 'Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office, surely they can handle this without you?' 

'I've got to go, Molly,' said Mr Weasley, 'I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off ...'

Mr Weasley hurried out of the kitchen.

'Oh, Neville, dear,' you'd better get your stuff together and get back home. Your gran must be worried sick about you!'

'Yes, and we'd better get out of Molly's hair too, Sirius,' said Remus.

'Well, about that ...' said Sirius. 'I was thinking ... if everyone's OK with it ... as I'm his godfather ... I thought Harry might like to spend the rest of the week with us, before heading back to Hogwarts?'

Harry couldn't believe it. Spending a week with Sirius sounded brilliant.

'Oh,' said Mrs Weasley, looking slightly put out. 'Well I had imagined he'd be staying with us. I'd have thought he'd want to be with Ron and Hermione.'

'Well, he's got the whole school year with us, Mrs Weasley,' said Hermione, coming to Harry's aid.

'Ow - oh, yeah!' said Ron after an elbow in his ribs from Hermione. 'Sirius is his godfather, it's only right they have time together, mum.'

Harry had never been more thankful for his friends in that moment.

'Well, Remus, do you think it's wise?' said Mrs Weasley, looking for an ally. 'What about Regulus?'

'As the eldest Black, Regulus has no say in what happens in my house,' said Sirius.

'And I'm afraid I have to agree with Hermione and Ron,' said Remus. 'A bit of bonding would be good. And I'll be there to keep an eye on things, and get Harry to King's Cross on time.'

Molly bristled slightly as she said, 'Well if everyone's agreed, I quite understand. You'd better collect your things too then Harry.'

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville climbed the stairs up to Ron's room. Percy crossed them on the stairs with his Cauldron report in hand.

'See you, Percy,' said Harry. 'I'm going back with Sirius and Remus, so I won't see you again for a bit.'

'Ah, yes, bye, Harry,' said Percy as he raced down the stairs. 'Good luck with your fourth year, I think you'll have fun, and might see me sooner than expected.'

'What does he mean by that?' said Ron as they carried on climbing the stairs.

'You don't think it's something to do with his secret project, do you?' said Neville.

'Oh Merlin's beard,' said Ron. 'You don't think he's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? That would be unbearable!'

They entered Ron's room. At the foot of their beds lay their trunks, all packed up. Neville went to pick up Trevor from the tank he'd made his home, and Harry went over to Hedwig. When he got to her there was another owl, he didn't recognise.

'Ron ...' he said. 'Who's owl is this?'

Ron walked over. The owl was white, with long streaks of grey running down its body and a grey speckled head. It had bold black lines around its snow white face and two deep amber-red, unblinking eyes.

'No idea, mate,' said Ron. 'Never seen it before in my life.'

'There's a note on the desk,' said Hermione.

Ron picked the note up and read.

'Bloody hell,' he said, dropping the note on the floor. 'He's mine!'

'Yours?' said Hermione confused. 'But why have you got an owl?'

'Mum wrote that he's from Sirius. Apparently he felt bad for me losing Scabbers! He's amazing.'

'What's his name?' said Neville.

'He doesn't have one yet,' said Ron.

'Well he's quite regal looking,' said Hermione. 'So he should have a suitably regal name.'

'How about Kingsley?' said Neville.

'Dad's got a colleague at the Ministry called Kingsley,' said Ron. The owl bristled at the thought of it.

'Pygmalion was a Greek King,' said Hermione, causing the owl to bristle again.

'What, and call it Pig for short? I don't think so.'

'How about Arthur?' suggested Harry, thinking back to his favourite book growing up, The One and Future King. Given the fact he was a wizard it made sense that he might be drawn to T. H. White's tale of magic. The owl bristled again.

'Arthur, the guy who Merlin advised?' said Ron. The owl hooted, a single hoot. The four friends turned and looked at him. 'Merlin?' said Ron. The owl looked him dead in the eye, and hooted, with approval.

'Well I think you've got your name, Ron,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, Merlin ... I like it.' Merlin hooted again with approval.

Harry let Hedwig fly off to hunt and told her that she would find him at Sirius's house. Then he and Ron lifted his trunk and followed Hermione out of the bedroom as she helped Neville carry his trunk back downstairs. Mrs Weasley hurried Neville into the living room, they all said goodbye to him and he returned back home by way of Floo Powder.

'Well, time for me to go then,' said Remus, throwing a pinch of Floo Powder onto the fire himself. 'Thank you again for your hospitality, Molly. I'll see you all on the first.' He stepped into the green flames. 'See you in a bit Harry. Twelve, Grimmauld Place.' He vanished as he made his way through the Floo Network.

Harry went to take a pinch of Floo Powder himself, but Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the fireplace.

'Not that way, Harry,' said Sirius. 'We're going back a much more fun way.'

Sirius led Harry outside to the garage. Sat there was an enormous black motorbike with its own sidecar.

'Stick your trunk in the sidecar, you'll get on behind me,' Sirius grinned. Harry and Ron lifted Harry's trunk up and somehow it slid into the sidecar's seat.

'Here you go,' said Sirius, handing Harry a helmet, 'you'd better put this on. Thanks again, Molly, send my best to Arthur. See you soon, kids.'

'Bye,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, see you,' said Ron. 'And thanks for Merlin - the owl! He looks amazing.'

'Glad you like him, and a great choice of name,' said Sirius. He then turned to look at the twins and said, quietly enough so Mrs Weasley couldn't hear, 'Make sure to get those reports to me by Wednesday, boys.' He winked at them as they saluted.

'See you, Harry,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, bye mate,' said Ron, 'see you next week. I'll keep you updated if Dad and Perce have any Ministry news.'

'Thanks, Ron. See you all,' said Harry, getting on the bike behind Sirius. 'And thanks for letting me stay, Mrs Weasley - and thank Mr Weasley for the Quidditch tickets!'

The motorbike roared to life.

They drove out of the garage and trundled to the driveway of The Burrow.

'Hold on tight,' said Sirius. Harry had no idea what he meant, there was a curve a hundred yards down the driveway, but he grasped his godfather tightly nevertheless.

The motorbike took off with speed. They were going to crash, Harry was sure of it. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the inevitable. But it didn't come.

He prised his eyes back open. They were flying. High over the trees. High over Ottery St Catchpole, and Stoatshead Hill and into the clouds above. After the wet chill of bursting through the cloud, Harry felt the warmth of the morning sun on his back. This was almost as fun as flying on a broomstick.

With the wind blowing they couldn't talk to one another, but Harry was feeling such happiness, all thoughts of Death Eaters and Dark Marks left his mind and he held onto Sirius contentedly.

Soon the descended again, in the centre of London and parked up on the edge of the street in a small square. The surrounding Georgian terraces that surrounded them were beautiful and almost unnaturally pristine. Harry and Sirius dismounted and unclipped their helmets.

'How'd you like that?' Sirius said with a grin.

'Incredible!' said Harry.

'You've ridden in the sidecar before now, by the way. I leant it to Hagrid the night your parents died so he could get you to safety.' Harry remembered a conversation he'd overheard Hagrid having last year where he had mentioned this fact. 'He's kept it in really good condition. Me and your dad would go out and cause all sorts of trouble on this back in the day!'

They carried the trunk to number twelve where Lupin was stood waiting in the doorway, with a cup of tea in hand.

'Welcome, Harry,' said Sirius as they entered, 'to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.'

Harry stepped into a beautiful hallway, illuminated by a chandelier, its branches shaped like serpents, hanging overhead. The hall was so clean that Aunt Petunia would have turned green with jealousy. The walls were whiter than snow, and the Mahogany banister had been polished to the extreme that Harry had no doubt that he would be able to see his reflection in it.

'Anyone fancy a hot drink?' asked Remus. 'I've just had the kettle on.'

'That would be great, Moony,' said Sirius. 'The descent was a little chilly, truth be told.'

'So this is the Potter boy is it?' came a woman's voice. 'The one who defeated the Dark Lord?' 

Harry turned towards the sound and found it had come from the enormous portrait on the wall. The woman in the portrait was very severe looking, but clearly a Black. Beyond her tight bun and thin lips were high cheekbones that Harry recognised in Sirius and his brother and an unusual handsomeness.

'Harry,' said Sirius, 'meet my mother. She's been wanting to say hi.'

'Hello,' said Harry tentatively. He was no stranger to moving portraits, Hogwarts was full of them, but each had their own distinct personality, and Harry had no idea what to expect from Mrs Black, especially after he'd researched the family last year. Sirius seemed to be very unique amongst the Blacks, a very proud pure-blood family.

'He looks like his father,' she said matter-of-factly, before turning her nose up. 'Well don't muck the place up. Kreacher does a top job keeping this place spotless.'

'Ah yes, where is that house-elf?' said Sirius. 'Kreacher!'

There was a crack and the next moment the oldest house-elf Harry had ever seen was stood next to Sirius. His skin seemed several sizes too big for him and, though bald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of his large, batlike ears. His eyes were a watery grey colour, his fleshy nose was large and snoutlike. He wore a loose cloth like a toga around his torso.

'Yess, Master?' he said, bowing deeply to Sirius.

'This is Harry. He's staying with us for the next week. Please take his trunk to the guest room.' 

'Harry Potter, Master? The boy who slayed the Dark Lord, Master? Kreacher is honoured!' The house-elf bowed low to Harry, his nose almost touching the floor.

'Er - thanks,' said Harry. 'Nice to meet you too - er - Kreacher, was it?'

'Oh, Harry Potter knows my name! Kreacher is honoured!'

'Alright, enough of that,' said Sirius. 'You can kiss his feet after you move his trunk.'

'Of course, Master,' said Kreacher standing up once more. He clicked his fingers and both he and Harry's trunk disappeared. Harry followed Sirius into the kitchen where Remus had just finished making their teas.

'Well,' said Remus. 'What did you want to do today? It's going to be a hot one, we could play Gobstones in the garden and have a spot of lunch out there later? Them, perhaps, we could go for a walk along the Thames this afternoon?'

'Sounds good to me,' said Harry.

The three of them had a great time with their Gobstones tournament, which Sirius took very seriously and, as such, won. Around midday Kreacher served them a ploughman's lunch, which they all enjoyed with an ice cold Butterbeer.

After lunch they left the house and caught the Northern Line from Angel, getting off a couple of stations later at Monument. They spent a carefree hour walking along the Thames towards Trafalgar Square. Harry had only ever been to London when visiting Diagon Alley before now, so was enjoying the experience of seeing the Capital up close. After spending some time in the National Gallery - which Remus found fascinating, but Sirius was confused as to way none of the pictures were moving - they made their way up Charing Cross Road and made a stop at the Leaky Cauldron.

'Evening, gentlemen,' said Tom the barman as he brought their drinks over. 'Good to see you again, Harry.'

'Hi, Tom,' said Harry.

Harry had spent most of last summer staying in room eleven of The Leaky Cauldron, after causing his Aunt Marge to blow up like a balloon. Cornelius Fudge himself had arranged Harry's accommodation, under Tom's watchful eye. 

'And blow me down, it's Sirius Black. I've got to say, young man, what the Ministry put you through ... in Azkaban without even a trial ... I shudder to think. If you ask me the whole system needs reviewing - as does that Barry Crouch for that matter. The Ministry's in shambles at the moment, I don't know how much longer Fudge can hold on. Especially now it's come out that dear old Bertha Jorkins has disappeared. Anyway, enjoy your drinks, let me know if there's anything else I can get for you.'

'Actually,' said Sirius, no doubt enamoured by Tom's opinion of the Ministry of Magic, and Mr Crouch in particular, 'I think we'd like three of your famous pies please, Tom.'

'Coming right up,' said Tom with a half-bow, and walking back to the bar.

'I think we deserve a nice hot meal after that walk, don't you?'

'Well, I certainly can't say no to one of Tom's steaming hot pies,' said Remus.

The pies came in perfect shortcrust pastry with flaky puff pastry tops. The steak and kidney filling was deliciously melt in the mouth. The gravy was thick and steaming hot, and the mash potatoes were fluffy and buttery. All in all a perfect end to a perfect day in Harry's opinion. After they'd finished eating they had another round of drinks, throughout which a number of witches and wizards came up to say hello to Harry and Remus, whilst others wanted to congratulate Sirius on clearing his name - though Harry noticed that others stayed away from their table, nervously looking over at his godfather. Harry was particularly happy to see Florean Fortescue, the owner of the ice-cream parlour, who's help with his History of Magic homework last year got him an Acceptable grade.

Soon they were yawning and, after such a long day, decided it was time to go home. Sirius paid their tab and they headed over to the fireplace, Tom had roaring in the back room. Remus opened a pouch he had in his pocket and sprinkled some Floor Powder onto the fire. He passed Sirius the pouch and stepped into the green flames.

'Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place,' he said clearly, before disappearing.

Sirius sprinkled some more powder onto the flames and made way for Harry to take his turn.

'Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place,' Harry said, his glasses in his pocket and arms firmly at his side. After a small amount of being battered around, comparative to his previous journeys by Floo, he fell out of the fireplace, and was caught by Remus on his exit.

There were two people already sat on the living room sofa. Professor Black and Narcissa Malfoy.

'Hello, Mr Potter,' said Professor Black. 'I see you've already made the guest room your home.'

That was when Sirius came barrelling out of the fireplace, landing on the floor in a heap.

'I never could get the hang of Floo,' he said sitting up. 'Oh, hello brother. Didn't know you'd be home. With cousin, Sissy, no less.'


	43. The Journey Back to Hogwarts

The Black brothers looked at one another for a moment, tension hanging in the air. Then suddenly there was a crack and Kreacher appeared in the living room.

'Lucius has returned,' the house-elf announced, bowing deeply.

Narcissa Malfoy stood up quickly and made her way to the fireplace.

'Thank you,' she said to Professor Black, taking a pinch of Floo Powder and throwing it into the fire. Harry noticed her eyes were red as if she'd been crying. She stepped into the flickering green flames, said 'Malfoy Manor' and vanished from view.

'Secret family meetings, Reg?' said Sirius. 'Where was my invite?'

'Narcissa just wanted my advice on something,' said Professor Black. 'You know we've always been close. If she wishes to share her personal life with you, I'm sure she will, but for now what was said is between her and myself.'

'Yes,' said Sirius, 'you always did run in the same crowds. Her sister and Husband were also part of your little gang weren't they?'

'Your brother is a good man, Master Sirius,' chimed in Kreacher, 'don't you forget what he did all those years ago. You broke Mistress Black's heart in her final days.'

'I broke her heart long before that Kreacher, if she ever had one, that is,' said Sirius venomously.

'Don't you dare speak about mother that way,' said Professor Black quietly, but with more than a hint of threat.

'Well, gentlemen, it's been a long day,' said Remus, before either brother could make any further comments, 'I think it's time for bed. Come on, Harry, I'll show you to your room.'

Harry said his good nights and followed Remus up the staircase. As they reached the first floor they could hear the muffled argument of the brothers start up again.

'Is it always like this?' Harry asked.

'You have to understand, Harry,' said Remus, 'that Sirius and his brother have never seen eye to eye. Professor Black is two years younger than Sirius and I, and I think had always looked up to Sirius. But then Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor, with myself and your father, and a rift began to form. You have to understand that most Blacks got sorted into Slytherin. They are a proud pure-blood family, who hold blood-purity above all else. Though not everyone in the family joined Voldemort, they certainly agreed with his agenda and fully supported his reign of terror.'

'What did Sirius mean when he said Mrs Malfoy's husband and sister were in Professor Black's little gang?' said Harry.

'Well, Harry,' said Remus, 'without Sirius to look up to anymore, Professor Black, as a Slytherin, was slightly more impressionable and made some foolish choices in his youth. I can assure you that he has made up for them ten-fold in the years since and Dumbledore trusts him without question, just as he trusts Sirius, and that should be enough.'

Harry wanted to push more, but he felt sure that Remus would not give him any further answers, so simply wished him a good night and lay on his bed. Remus was right, it had been a long day, and before Harry knew it he was sound asleep.

*

The rest of the week passed without much incident. Professor Black left for Hogwarts the next morning in order to prepare for the next term of school. The following afternoon Errol arrived with a bundle of parchments for Sirius. He spent the next few hours holed up in the study, reading them over, whilst Harry and Remus played Wizard Chess in the sunshine.

Ron sent a letter with Merlin near the end of the week, telling Harry of all the chaos the Ministry of Magic was dealing with after the events at the Quidditch World Cup. Mr Weasley and Percy had barely been home all week and now, apparently, Rita Skeeter, the woman who had quoted Mr Weasley in the Daily Prophet, had been snooping around and found out about Bertha Jorkins which everyone expected to be the next day's headline.

The morning of September 1st was a particularly gloomy one, with rain lashing against the windows of Twelve, Grimmauld Place. The rain did nothing to help the sadness Harry felt that the most wonderful week with his godfather was now over.

It was a thirty minute walk to King's Cross, Harry, Sirius and Remus each carrying huge black umbrellas. They reached the station at half past ten and made their way to platform nine and three-quarters. 

Harry was used to getting onto the platform by now. It was a simply matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. The three of them leant casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it ... and as they did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialised in front of them.

The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of smoke billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Kreacher had already Apparated there ahead of them with Harry's luggage, including Hedwig in her cage, ready for the long journey ahead.

At quarter to eleven Neville and his Grandmother arrived on the platform, and a few minutes later Weasleys and Hermione made their way through the barrier. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville found themselves a compartment and stowed away their luggage, before hopping back onto the platform to say their goodbyes.

'I might be seeing you all sooner than you think,' said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny goodbye.

'Why?' said Fred keenly.

'You'll see,' said Charlie. 'Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it ... it's "classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it", after all.'

'Yeah, I sort of wish I was back at Hogwarts this yeah,' said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

'Why?' said George impatiently.

'You're going to have an interesting year,' said Bill, his eyes twinkling. 'I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it ...'

'A bit of what?' said Ron.

'Now, now boys, don't keep teasing them like this,' said Mr Weasley, smiling. But before anyone could say anything else, the whistle blew, and Mrs Weasley chivvied them towards the train doors.

'Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs Weasley,' said Hermione, as they climbed on board, closed the door and leant out of the window to talk to her. 

'Oh, it was my pleasure, dears,' said Mrs Weasley. 'I'd invite you for Christmas, but ... well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with .. one thing and another.'

'Mum!' said Ron irritably. 'What d'you all know that we don't?'

'You'll find out this evening, I expect,' said Mrs Weasley smiling. 'It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -'

'What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred and George together,

'I don't know, Molly,' said Sirius, 'it sounds like all the fun has been taken out of it.'

The pistons hissed loudly, and the train began to move.

'Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!' Fred bellowed out of the window, as Sirius, Remus, Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley, Bill and Charlie sped away from them. 'What rules are they changing?'

But those on the platform only smiled and waved. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them.

'Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts,' Ron said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. 'At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Did Sirius not say anything?'

'No,' Harry said.

'Well he wouldn't, would he,' said Hermione. 'Not with Remus and Professor Black watching over him.'

'What's Professor Black like at home?' said Ron.

'Didn't see much of him,' said Harry. 'He left for Hogwarts on Tuesday.'

'That's really unusual,' said Hermione. 'Most teachers go back the day before term.'

'And get this,' said Harry. 'We found him having a secret meeting with Narcissa Malfoy one night when we returned home. Apparently he used to run in the same circles as her sister and Mr Malfoy.'

'Her sister?' said Neville. 'As in Bellatrix Lestrange?'

'I'm not sure,' said Harry. 'No one said her name.' 

'Bellatrix was a Death Eater,' said Ron. 'She's been in Azkaban for years. Refused to come quietly after Voldemort's death, apparently.'

Neville shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Harry remembered that Bellatrix was was on the Death Eaters who had tortured his parents.

'And Lucius Malfoy was definitely a Death Eater back in the day,' Ron continued. 'You don't think Professor Black was too do you?'

'Come on now, Ron,' said Hermione. 'Dumbledore trusts Professor Black, there's no way he's a Death Eater.'

'Bill and Charlie did say he was no where to be seen helping the Muggles at the World Cup,' Ron said.

'Yes, probably because he'd already gone back home, rather than camping,' Hermione said firmly, putting an end to any further conversation around the fact that Professor Black might have ever been a Death Eater.

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved further north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now, it was still squeaking Toy Mullet! Moran!', but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.

'Gran didn't want to go,' Neville said. 'So glad that Ron's family invited me to join them. It was amazing, I would've hated to have missed it.'

The jovial atmosphere continued for the rest of the journey, and they were still chatting excitedly as the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last, and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station. As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled Crookshanks up in her cloak as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

'Hi, Hagrid!' Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform. 

'All righ', Harry?' Hagrid bellowed back, waving. 'See ya at the feast if we don' drown!'

First-years traditionally reached Hogwarts castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

'Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather,' said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track towards Hogwarts castle.


	44. The Start of Term Feast

(GOF 152-153)

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville slipped and slid across the Entrance Hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in mid-air. The four long house tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville walked past the Slytherins, where Theodore Nott scowled at them, the Ravenclaws, where Harry saw the incredibly pretty Cho Chang and quickly turned away, butterflies in his stomach, and the Hufflepuffs, where Cedric Diggory gave a little wave, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semi-transparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet: with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra festive and ensuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

'Good evening,' he said, beaming at them.

'Says who?' said Harry, taking off his trainers and emptying them of water. 'Hope they hurry up with the Sorting, I'm starving.'

The Sorting of the new students into houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry hadn't been present at one since his own. He was quite looking forward to it.

Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table, 'Hiya, Harry!'

It was Colin Creevey, a third-year to whom Harry was some thing of a hero.

'Hi, Colin,' said Harry warily

'Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!'

'Er - good,' said Harry.

'He's really excited!' said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. 'I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?'

'Er - yeah, all right,' said Harry. He turned back to Nearly Headless Nick. 'Brothers and sisters usually go in the same houses, don't they?' he said. 

He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor. 

'Oh, no, not necessarily,' said Hermione, 'Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. you'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?'

'And what about Professor Black and Sirius?' said Neville. 'A Gryffindor and a Slytherin.'

Harry had to admit they had a good point. He looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first-years. Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the Entrance Hall floor, but there was another empty Chair. 

'Where is Professor Black?' said Harry. 'He said he was returning earlier in the week.'

'Who knows,' said Neville. 'But have you seen who our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is? That's Mad-Eye Moody.'

They had never yet had a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. Harry's favourite by far had been Professor Remus Lupin, who was now living with Sirius. He looked up at the teachers table. In the very centre of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep-green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. On his left were two empty chairs where Professors Black and McGonagall should be, and to his right tiny little Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway grey hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. And next to her was the most interesting looking man, Harry had ever seen

He owned a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair. His face looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up. down and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye-and then it roll right over, pointing into the back of the man's head so that all they could see was whiteness. He took a swig out of a personal hip-flask. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot. Moody's one beady eye was staring intently at Harry.

Harry turned back to the others, with a slight shiver.

'Well, I guess we know why they call him Mad-Eye,' said Ron.

Harry glanced up at the ceiling. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

'Oh, hurry up,' Ron moaned, beside Harry, 'I could eat a Hippogriff.'

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry and his friends were wet, it was nothing to how these first-years looked.

(GOF 156-158)

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

'When I call out your name, you will put on the Hat and sit on the stool,' she told the first years. :When the Hat announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.'

'Ackerley, Stewart!' 

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, pur it on and sat down on the stool.

'Ravenclaw!' shouted the Hat.

Stewart Ackerley took off the Hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. Harry caught another glimpse of Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart Ackerley as he sat down. For a fleeting second Harry had a strange desire to join the Ravenclaw table too. 

'Baddock, Malcolm!'

'Slytherin!'

The table on the other side of the Hall erupted with cheers: Harry could see Nott shaking Baddock's hand as he joined the Slytherins. Harry wondered whether Baddock knew that Slytherin house had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.

'Branstone, Eleanor!'

'Hufflepuff!'

'Cauldwell, Owen!'

'Hufflepuff!'

'Creevey, Dennis!' 

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall is normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming - a misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table, and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat.

(GOF 159-162)

'So!' said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. 'Now that we are all fed and watered' ('Hmph!' said Hermione), 'I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Firstly let us all give a want welcome to our latest addition to the teaching staff, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody.'

There was a smattering of polite applause around the Great Hall.

'Mr Filch, the caretaker,' Dumbledore continued unperturbed, 'has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it.'

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. 

He continued, 'As ever, I would like to remind you all that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditchd Cup will not take place this year.'

'What?' Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. 

Dumbledore continued, 'This is due to an event that will be in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure announcing that this year at Hogwarts we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.'

'You're JOKING!' said Fred Weasley loudly.

Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

1 am not joking, Mr Weasley,' he said, 'though, now you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar -' 

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

'Er - but maybe this is not the time ... no ...' said Dumbledore. 'Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament ... well, some of you will not know what this Tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

(GOF 165-170)


	45. Brooler

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville examined their new timetables at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of ageing themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

'Today's not bad ... outside all morning,' said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his timetable, 'Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures damn it, we're still with the Slytherins ...'

'Double Divination this afternoon,' Harry groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favourite subject. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry's death, which he found extremely annoying.

'You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?' said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. 'Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy.'

'You're eating again, I notice,' said Ron, watching Hermione add liberal amounts of jam to her buttered toast.

'I decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights,' said Hermione haughtily. 

'Yeah ... and you were hungry,' said Ron, grinning. 

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows, carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and grey. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel in his lap.

'What did you forget this time, Neville?' said Ron.

Neville opened his parcel and inside found what looked like a pair of deep blue velvet curtains. Neville lifted the material out of its wrapping and Harry saw that it was in fact a pair of robes, complete with a black bow-tie, and black laced cuffs.

'Oh, your dress robes,' said Ron. 'I wish I'd have forgotten mine, they're hideous.'

'Of that I have no doubt, Weasley,' came a weedy voice from behind them. It was Theodore Nott, passing by with a giggling Pansy Parkinson. 'Though I doubt you'll have to worry about wearing them. It's not like anyone would agree to go anywhere with you dressed like the pauper you are.'

Ron jumped up from his seat.

'What are you going to do?' said Nott under his breath, so only Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Pansy could hear. 'Curse me in front of all these teachers? As if I don't know more curses than you.'

Nott lunged forward and Ron flinched from a fist that never came.

'Pathetic,' Nott laughed as he and Pansy walked away towards the Slytherin table.

'Oh, sit down Ron,' said Hermione. 'Don't let him get to you.'

'He's right though, my robes are horrid. What're yours like, Harry?'

'Oh, I dunno,' said Harry. 'I haven't looked. I didn't even know we needed any.'

'I bet mum picked you some really nice ones up,' said Ron. 'She's always liked you.'

Ron's dress-robe preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable path until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants they had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick black giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly, and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

'Bubotubers,' Professor Sprout told them briskly. 'They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -'

'The what?' said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

'Pus, Finnigan, pus,' said Professor Sprout, 'and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, l say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves, it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, Bubotuber pus.'

Squeezing the Bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. Ron's took out jis anger at Nott, causing a large explosion of Bubotuber pus at one point, but luckily everyone it landed on was well covered. After that Ron held the bottle and Hermione popped. Harry was the bottle holder in his pair - as usual in Herbology, Neville was a natural. By the end of the lesson the class had collected several pints. 

'This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy' said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. 'An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, Bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to get rid of their pimples.'

'Like Eloise Midgen,' said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. 'She tried to curse hers off.'

'Silly girl,' said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. 'But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end.'

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

'Mornin'!' Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville. 'Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!'

'Come again?' said Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

'Eurgh!' squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backwards.

'Eurgh' just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts, in Harry's opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling ver each other, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then sparks would fly out of the end of a Skrewt and, with a small phut, it would be propelled forwards several inches.

'On'y jus hatched, said Hagrid proudly, 'so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!'

'Sounds like an awful project, if you ask me,' came Nott's cold voice as the Slytherins arrived. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the statement. 

'Do they have a purpose? No. Are they dangerous? Yes. This school really is going to ruin and Draco's dad was right to get him out of here. I wish mine would let me leave too.

'You're not the only one,' Ron muttered under his breath.

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard there was a few seconds pause, then he said roughly, 'As with all animals, Nott, they're only dangerous if yeh don't trea' 'em with the respect they deserve. Yer jus' feeding 'em today, try and get a bond goin'. Now, you'll war try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an a bit o' grass-snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each.' 

'First pus and now this,' muttered Seamus.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry and his friends pick up squelchy handful of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the Skrewts didn't seem to have mouths. And he had no idea how they were meant to bond with them.

'Ouch!' yelled Dean Thomas, after about ten minutes. 'It got me!'

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

'Its end exploded!' said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

'Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off,' said Hagrid, nodding. 

'Eurgh!' said Lavender Brown again. 'Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?' 

'Ah, some of 'em have got stings,' said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). 'I reckon they're the males ... the females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies ... I think they might be ter suck blood.'

'Now it makes sense,' said Nott sarcastically. 'Who wouldn't want to raise something that can burn, sting and suck you to death?'

'Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful,' Hermione snapped. 'Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?' 

Harry and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron and Hermione only too well - he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures - the more lethal, the better.

'Well, at least the Skrewts are small,' said Ron, as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later. 

'They are now,' said Hermione in an exasperated voice, 'but once Hagrids found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long.'

'Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure sea sickness or something, will it?' said Ron, grinning slyly at her.

'You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Nott up,' said Hermione. 'As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all.'

They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Harry and Ron stared at her. 'Er - is this the new stand on elf rights?' said Ron. 'You're going to make yourself puke instead?' 

'No,' said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. 'I just want to get to the library'

'What?' said Ron in disbelief. 'Hermione - it's the fist day back! We haven't even got homework yet!'

Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet said, 'See you at dinner!' and departed at high speed.

(GOF 176-179)

They reached the Entrance Hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner.

'I see Professor Black's back,' said Ron as they sat down to tuck into their casserole.

Professor Black was indeed sat at the staff table, talking intently with Professor Dumbledore.

'Mad-Eye's not happy though,' said Neville.

Harry looked down the table and saw Professor Moody staring intently with both eyes at Dumbledore and Black as they conversed, his weathered face was scowling deeply.

'Well if you are going to start with your Professor Black conspiracy theories again,' said Hermione, 'I'm off to the library.' Hermione had wolfed her dinner down and was getting out of her seat.

'The library?' said Harry. 'Again?'

'Got to,' said Hermione thickly. 'Loads to do.'

'But you told us Professor Vector -' 

'It's not schoolwork,' she said, leaving in a hurry.

No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley. 'Moody!' he said. 'How cool is he?' 

'Beyond cool,' said George, sitting down opposite Fred.

'Supercool,' said the twins' best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George. 'We had him this afternoon,' he told Harry, Ron and Neville.

'What was it like?' said Harry eagerly.

Fred, George and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.

'Never had a lesson like it,' said Fred.

'He knows, man,' said Lee. 

'Knows what?' said Ron, leaning forwards.

'Knows what it's like to be out there doing it,' said George impressively.

'Doing what?' said Harry.

'Fighting the Dark Arts,' said Fred.

'He's seen it all,' said George.

''Mazing,' said Lee.

Ron dived into his bag for his timetable. 'We haven't got him 'til Thursday!' he said in a disappointed voice.

*

At the end of Potions the next day, Black asked Harry, Hermione, Neville, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini to stay behind.

'As you know,' he said to them after the rest of the class had shuffled out. 'We normally have our first Slug Club of the year on Hallowe'en. However with the Triwizard Tournament coming up, and our European friends joining us in October I thought it would be pertinent to have a meeting next Friday at seven o'clock please, in Dungeon six.'

The five students left the dungeon. Ron and Nott were waiting outside for them. The tension between them was palpable.

'What was that about?' Ron asked.

'Slug Club,' said Harry.

'I can't believe you two still go to that pathetic club,' said Nott to Pansy and Blaise.

'Someone's jealous,' said Ron loudly.

'Why would I be jealous, Weasley?' said Nott. 'Everyone knows Black doesn't let kids of former Death Eaters into his little gang, no matter how innocent they might have been found to be, or how hypocritical that might be. What's your excuse?'

Ron stopped.

'So your parents were Death Eaters were they? Did they join in the fun at the World Cup, Nott? Because they weren't with you when we saw you, were they?'

Nott smiled. 'Trust me, Weasley,' he said. 'If my parents had been there, I'd have pointed them in the direction of your Mudblood girlfriend.' 

Instantly Harry and Ron reached for their wands, as Hermione and Neville tried to hold them back. Pansy giggled. Blaise just stood there scowling.

'It's not worth it Ron,' said Hermione, trying to hold down his wand arm.

'Yes it is,' said Harry, fighting against Neville, who was surprisingly strong.

Nott lazily pulled out his own wand.

'Sectumsempra!' he said.

Hermione howled in pain and fell to the floor. Blood was spurting from her back and her robes were slashed as if she'd been attacked by a sword.

'WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HER?!' yelled Ron as he dropped to the floor. Blaise was running back down the corridor, Pansy was giggling. Neville was frozen in shock.

'I've been wanting to try that one for a while,' smirked Nott.

Harry lifted his own wand and cried 'Expelliarmus,' disarming Nott. He pointed his wand threateningly at Nott's throat. 

'How do we help her?' he said, over Hermione's cries. Nott just smirked. Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

'What is going on here?' said Professor Black as he arrived at the scene. He saw Hermione and instantly dropped to his knees. He drew his wand and traced it over the deep wounds Nott's curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like a song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Black wiped the residue from Hermione's back and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting. Black repeated the incantation a third time and then helped Hermione to her feet.

'Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Mr Longbottom,' he said. 'Take Miss Granger to the Hospital Wing immediately. You three,' he continued, turning to the Slytherins, 'my office, right now.'

The boys took Hermione to the Hospital Wing, Ron and Harry each side of her, taking her weight, Neville in front, keeping the path clear. The whole journey was taken in silence except for Hermione's moans of pain. Harry and Ron shot one another continued worried glances.

When they got her to the Hospital Wing Madam Pomfrey took her to a bed and pulled the curtains behind them, leaving Harry, Ron and Neville to sit the other side and wait in anxious patience.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Madam Pomfrey pulled the curtain back and they saw Hermione sleeping peacefully.

'She's going to be fine,' said Madam Pomfrey. 'A little scarring on her back, but luckily Professor Black stitched her up in good time, and you got her to me quickly. She needs her rest now, you three run along. I'll tell her you were waiting for her.'

Being given no choice to stay, Harry, Ron and Hermione left the Hospital Wing and, having missed lunch, made their way in silence to their final class of the day, Transfiguration.

They quietly opened the door to the classroom and could here Professor McGonagall in full flow as she was lecturing the class.

'Take a seat please boys,' she said, noticing them entering the room. 'We are attempt to turn beetles into buttons this afternoon.'

They attempted to follow Professor McGonagall's instructions, but their minds were all on Hermione. Harry had only managed to take the legs off of his beetle by the end of the lesson.

At dinner Fred, George and Ginny, who had all heard what had happened attempted to cheer up Harry, Ron and Neville, but all attempts were useless.

'At least we know she's ok,' said Ginny.

'Yeah,' said Fred. 'And that Nott git's nowhere to be seen. I'll bet you anything that Black's sent him packing.'

Harry looked at the Slytherin table, and Nott was not there. He could see Pansy giggling away and shooting looks over at the Gryffindor table which didn't fill him with confidence. Blaise Zabini was sat away from the rest of the Slytherins scowling down the table.

After dinner Harry, Ron and Neville went back to the Hospital Wing to find Hermione sitting up, eating Sticky Toffee Pudding.

'How are you feeling?' Ron asked her as he rushed to her bedside.

'Better,' Hermione said. 'Madam Pomfrey says I'll have to stay here until the weekend. What did I miss in Transfiguration?'

'Bloody hell, Hermione,' said Ron. 'You were attacked and your asking about schoolwork?'

'Well I don't want to fall behind, do I? Besides I've got enough to be getting on with at the moment, so I need to keep up with everything.'

'What do you mean enough to be getting on with?' Harry asked. 'Is this about all those trips to the library?'

Hermione tutted as she took her final spoon of custard.

'I'll tell you when everything's ready, just please pick my homework up for me,' she said.

They agreed that they would, and, after a few hours playing Wizard Chess, Madam Pomfrey shooed the three boys out of the Hospital Wing and they walked back to the Common Room in a much better mood now they knew Hermione was alright.

*

Their good mood didn't last though. The next morning at breakfast they saw Theodore Nott, sitting at the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson fawning over him.

'What's he still doing here?' said Ron, going red. 'Why would Black not expel him for what he did to Hermione?'

They continued to debate why Nott had been allowed to stay all the way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, their first class of the day.

They all shuffled in eagerly and Harry, Ron and Neville managed to get three desks at the front of the classroom, and even saved one for Hermione when she could join them next week. Professor Moody watched as they all filed in.

'All right, all right, settle down, everyone,' he said gruffly once all were sat. He watched them all intently with both eyes roaming independently around the classroom. They class waited with baited breath. 'As you know, my name is Professor Moody. I am your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, and only this year. I have come out of retirement as a favour to Professor Dumbledore. But my being here only one year, doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you. Quite the opposite. Many of us have read the signs. We know dark times are coming.'

Professor Moody walked around the classroom, his wooden leg thinking along the floor, and the class hung on to every word.

'Professor Lupin sent me a letter praising your abilities, and getting me up to speed with what you learnt last year. Magical Beasts are not a problem for you it would seem. But none of you have any idea what to do when facing a wizard. Wizards play dirty. As your classmate, Miss Granger, discovered yesterday.'

Harry and Ron looked at each other across the empty desk between them.

'Constant Vigilance!' Moody barked, making the whole class jump. 'That is what's needed in this life. There are dark wizards out there. Theodore Nott is a child. Imagine what a full grown wizard is capable of if he puts his mind to it. Though I don't have to tell you two do I?'

He had stopped between Harry and Neville. Harry looked at his friend who was shaking.

'I knew your parents,' Moody continued. 'Good people. Frank and Alice didn't deserve what they got and the Lestranges deserved a whole lot more than what they've got. As for James and Lily, well ...'

He clunked his way to the front of the classroom again. 'You OK?' Harry mouthed across to Neville who nodded in return.

'So let's talk about curses. More specifically, Unforgivable Curses. The Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse. Can anyone tell me what the Imperius Curse does?'

There was a low murmur as the class searched the classroom for someone who knew the answer. Ron slowly raised his hand.

'Mr Weasley, isn't it?' said Moody.

'Er - yeah,' said Ron.

'Well, go on, what does the Imperius Curse do?'

'Well - er - it gives you complete control over someone else ...'

'Yes, very well put,' said Moody. 'Five points to Gryffindor. The Imperius Curse is particularly troublesome - I remember after the war when we had to figure out who was acting under it, and who was acting of their own free will. A lot of bad wizards claimed to have been under this curse I can tell you. It can be fought, but it's not easy. We'll be giving it ago this term. How about the Cruciatus Curse then?'

Neville's hand went up this time.

'Yes, Mr Longbottom, tell the class about the Cruciatus Curse.'

'It's a torturing curse,' Neville said quietly.

'Yes. A torturing curse. Immensely painful. Again, it's possible to fight, but not when there's four wizards performing it at the same time, even for accomplished wizards. As for the Killing Curse, well the clue's in the name there. And there's only ever been one known survivor of this one.'

Harry felt his face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He could feel everyone else looking around at him, too. Harry stared at the blackboard, trying to block everyone out.

'For everyone else,' Moody said, 'instant death. No way to block that one. No coming back from it. But you need to know what you're up against. If you can prepare yourself to face the worst, if you can practise constant vigilance, then you might just live to see the next day.'

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang.

'Fred and George were right,' said Ron. 'He really knows his stuff.'

Harry and Neville nodded in agreement, but neither felt particularly like talking. Unlike Ron, both of their parents had been targeted by one of the curses and they both wanted to take their minds off the lesson.

'Let's take Moody's homework down to Hermione, and we can do our Divination at the same time,' said Harry.

When they got to Hermione at the Hospital Wing, they found her nose deep in a book on magical law.

'You have a funny definition of rest and recuperation,' said Ron, startling her. She hastily put the book away, onto a huge pile beside her.

'How did you convince Madam Pince to let you bring these in here?' asked Harry, handing her her homework.

'Because she knows I've been working on this all week,' Hermione said.

'And what is it that you're working on that's so important?' said Ron.

'I'll tell you when it's ready,' Hermione huffed, taking a look at her Defense Against the Dark Arts work. As she poured over her homework, Harry, Ron and Neville took out their copies of Unfogging the Future and set to work on their predictions for the coming month. An hour later, they had made very little progress, though their table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and Harry's brain was as foggy as though it had been filled with the fumes from Professor Trelawney's fire. Hermione, meanwhile was finished and hard at work on her secret project again.

'I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean, Harry said, staring down at a long list of calculations.

'You know,' said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration,' I think it's back to the old Divination standby.'

'What - make it up?

'Yeah,' said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink and starting to write. 'Next Monday,' he said, as he scribbled, 'I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter.' He looked up at Harry and Neville. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up.'

'Right,' said Harry, glancing nervously at Hermione, thinking about what she might say if she heard they weren't doing their homework properly. 'OK ... on Monday, I will be in danger of - er - burns.'

'Yeah, you will be,' said Ron darkly, 'we're seeing the Skrewts again on Monday. OK, Tuesday, I'll ... erm ...'

'Lose a treasured possession,' said Harry, who was through Unfogging the Future for ideas.

'Good one,' said Ron, copying it down. Because of ... erm ... Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by some one you thought was a friend, Neville?' 

'Good idea,' said Neville, scribbling it down. 'Because - er - Mars is in retrograde.'

'And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight.'

'Aaah, I was going to have a fight. OK, I'll lose a bet.'

'Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight ...'

They continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while Hermione tutted at them from time to time, or chimed in with 'why don't you swap it for a proper subject?'

'Done!' said Ron finally, in triumph, throwing down his quill.

'Not going to have a very good month, are you?' Hermione said sardonically, from her hospital bed. 

'Ah well, at least I'm forewarned,' Ron yawned.

'Well, I'm finished too,' said Hermione. For the first time Harry noticed that she had a box with her, he'd been so focused on his impending doom he hadn't even looked over at her for the past hour.

'What's in the box?' he asked, pointing at it.

'Well,' said Hermione, with a beaming smile, 'come and look.'

Harry, Ron and Neville stood up and looked inside the box. There were about fifty badges, all of different colours, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W

'"Spew"?' said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. 'What's this about?'

'Not spew,' said Hermione impatiently. 'It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.'

'Never heard of it,' said Ron.

'Well, of course you haven't,' said Hermione briskly, 'I've only just started it. Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. 'How many members have you got?'

'Well - if you three join- four.' said Hermione. 'And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying "spew", do you?' said Ron.

'S-P-E-W!' said Hermione hotly. 'I was going to put the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto.'

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them. 'I've been researching it thoroughly,' she continued waving at the books beside her. 'Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now.'

'Hermione - open your ears,' said Ron loudly. 'They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!'

'Our short-term aims,' said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, 'are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly under-represented.'

'And how do we do all this?' Harry asked. 'We start by recruiting members,' said Hermione happily. 'I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying a record of our first meeting. Neville, you'll be our marketing officer.'

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the three of them, and Harry sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione, and amusement at the look on Ron's face. 

'Tell her, Neville,' said Ron, breaking the silence. 'Tell her how much they like what they do.'

'Well ... to be fair, Hermione,' Neville said tentatively. 'Gran would be lost without Brooler ... And Brooler seems pretty happy too ...'

'Who's Brooler?' Hermione said very quietly, her lips pressed together thinly, reminding Harry of Professor McGonagall at her angriest.

'Our - er - family house-elf -'

'You have a house-elf?' Hermione shrieked. 'How could you? How can you keep an innocent creature under your control?'

Neville was saved from answering when Madam Pomfrey came over to see what the noice was all about and ushered the three boys out of the Hospital Wing for disturbing the peace.

'You seriously have a house-elf, Neville?' Ron asked as they climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

'Yeah,' said Neville.

'How come you never told us?' said Ron.

'Well to be fair, it's not something to shout about is it? Hermione probably has a point about how most people treat house-elves. Look at what Barry Crouch did to his.'

'And we know the Malfoys' mistreated Dobby,' said Harry.

'She's going to be insufferable tomorrow,' said Ron.

They went straight to their dormitory and got into their four-posters. Dean and Seamus were already asleep.l, and Harry soon joined them.


	46. The Imperius Curse

Hermione not talking to Neville was a new experience for Harry. Naturally Ron had taken Neville's side and so she wasn't talking to him either, meaning Harry was the one who had to try and keep the peace. It wasn't going very well.

'Brooler's been in the family for years -'

'Harry, could you pass the jam please. Or maybe I should get an elf to bring it over for me.'

'She's treated well -'

'Thank you, Harry, I'm glad someone has morals'

'C'mon 'Mione, that's not fair -'

'Harry could you tell Ron that the day I want his opinion on what is fair, and what isn't, is the day all house-elves are free from wizard oppression.'

The bickering continued for the next week, though Harry did his best to ignore it, but he was dreading being alone with Hermione and Neville at the Slug Club.

'Good luck,' Ron said to Harry and Neville as they parted ways that Friday to head down to the dungeons.

There was a frostiness in the air as Harry, Hermione and Neville descended which had nothing to do with the depths of the castle.

Dungeon six had, as usual, been tastefully decorated. Harry saw the familiar crowd. He felt a pang of jealousy when he saw Cedric Diggory chatting with Cho Chang. He looked away and Ginny Weasley talking to a blonde Ravenclaw girl. There were a couple of new faces too.

'What's he doing here?' said Hermione through gritted teeth. She was looking at Blaise Zabini, who was keeping himself to himself in the corner of the room.

'Well he did go and get Professor Black when you were attacked,' said Neville. 

'Yes, and Nott only got detention,' Hermione said.

'Every Saturday until the end of the year though,' said Neville. Hermione merely harrumphed and walked away to Ginny and the Ravenclaw girl.

'She'll come around, mate,' said Harry gently. 'Mind you I do think Nott should've been expelled, so perhaps that wasn't the widest thing to say.'

'Welcome back to those of you who are returning,' said Professor Black as they sat for dinner. 'And welcome to those of you who are new. Some of you will notice that Miss Parkinson is not here this evening. Though she did not cause harm herself, she was present at the attack of Miss Granger here, which I am sure you are all aware of. Unlike Mr Zabini who immediately came to get my assistance, Miss Parkinson cheered on the attack. Membership to this Slug Club is a privilege, not a right. Mr Zabini exemplified what is expected from a member of this club and did not let his reputation among his peers stand in the way of doing the right thing.

'Soon we will be joined by two of our European neighbours; Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. We must not show ourselves up.'

Everyone made their customary start of the year introductions for the newcomers, and then dinner began.

'Professor Black,' Hermione said, halfway through her main course, 'may I ask where this food was prepared?'

'Why the kitchens, of course,' said Professor Black warily.

'So it was prepared by house-elves?'

'Yes.'

'Through the use of slave labour?'

'Well I wouldn't say that, Miss Granger.'

'But they don't get paid for the work they do, do they?'

By now everyone had stopped eating and was staring at Hermione and Professor Black. Everyone except for Neville, who was continuing to eat his dinner and trying his best to avoid eye contact.

'Not with money, no.'

'So what do they get paid in?'

Professor Black breathed in deeply.

'Miss Granger, I would suggest you learn more about house-elves and their ways before getting into this conversation -'

'Oh, I've done my homework, Professor Black, and in all honesty I cannot see any justification for the continued subjugation of any sentient beings.'

'I have to say I agree with Hermione, Professor,' said Ginny's Ravenclaw friend whose name was Luna Lovegood. 'My father actually ran a piece in his magazine about why we should show more respect to non-humans such as house-elves, goblins and giants.'

Hermione looked across and beamed.

'Miss Lovegood,' said Professor Black, 'I am well aware of your father's article. In fact he interviewed my own house-elf for the piece, but decided not to use the interview as it did not fit with the point of view he was presenting in his article.'

'You have a house-elf?' said Hermione, eyes blazing.

Professor Black sighed. 'Yes, Miss Granger, I have a house-elf. Many wizarding families do. I would imagine a number of people around the table have a family house-elf.'

'We don't,' said Luna.

'Nor us,' said Ginny. 'And I bet Harry doesn't, do you Harry?'

Harry spat out his Pumpkin Juice surprised at having been brought into the conversation. 'Well, no ...' he said

'Of course Harry doesn't,' said Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw Seeker, 'he grew up with Muggles. We have one, mind you he's getting on a bit now, it's probably time to get a new one in.'

Hermione gasped, horrified at the lack of care Roger had for his house-elf.

'Who else has a house-elf?' she demanded of the table. No one moved.

'I think, Miss Granger,' said Professor Black, ' that this is quite enough talk of house-elves for the time being. I am happy to arrange a proper discussion on the subject with you, but I feel it is less than appropriate to bring politics to the dinner table.'

Hermione finished her meal in silence. After the dinner Professor Black ran through his expectations of the club members and how they should behave in front of their European guests. When everyone left, Hermione walked away in conversation with Ginny and Luna.

*

One Thursday morning they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and Moody was nowhere to be seen. There was a chattering amongst the class.

'Where is he?'

'He's never been late before now.'

'Maybe he's watching us with that weird blue eye of his.'

Harry, who was about to ask Hermione where she thought Professor Moody was, was suddenly aware of a hush falling across the classroom. He was about to turn to see why everyone had fallen silent when he felt his arms jump to his side and his legs snap together. He fell out of his chair in his new, stiff position. He recognised the body-bind curse - something Wormtail had used on him at the end of last year in his escape.

From his new view point on the floor he saw Hermione dart out of her chair and pull out her wand in defense. Then he heard a gruff chuckle.

'Well done, Miss Granger,' came Moody's voice from the back of the classroom. 'The rest of you really need to practise your Constant Vigilance!'

Moody made his way to the front of the classroom and with a wave of his wand the class was set free from their invisible bonds again.

'That was a simple, non-dangerous curse,' he said, once everyone was back in their seats. 'Imagine if a Dark wizard wanted to incapacitate you. Do you think they'd use Petrificus Totals? No, they'd use something much more serious. That is why from today you are going to learn how to fight against more powerful curses.

'Today we will start with the Imperius curse. Dumbledore agrees that it is imperative that you learn what it feels like, only then can you fight it. But, as an Unforgivable Curse I cannot force you to have the curse put upon you, it is a completely voluntary lesson. But would you rather learn about it from someone who intends harm, or in a controlled environment from someone who wants to help you fight it?'

The class was silent, Moody's blue eye was whizzing around in its socket, daring someone to question him. Harry saw Hermione twitch next to him as if she wanted to say something.

'Right then,' said Moody, 'any volunteers?'

Harry looked around. No one had moved. Lavender Brown was sitting on her hands and Seamus Finnigan had gone white as a ghost at the thought of it. Harry turned back to face the front and raised his hand.

'Mr Potter!' said Moody with glee. 'Perfect. Come up here - that's it - now try and fight it if you can - let's see what you're made of - Imperio!'

It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him. And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Do a hand stand ... do a hand stand ...

Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing turn his body upside down. 

Do a hand stand ...

Why though?

Another voice had awoken in the back of his brain. Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.

Do a hand stand ...

No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly ... no, I don't really want to ...

Hand stand! NOW!

The next thing Harry felt was considerable pain. He had both flipped himself into a hand stand and tried to prevent himself from doing lne - the result was that he'd smashed his legs into the blackboard, knocking it over, and collapsed into a heap on the ground. His elbows were in considerable pain.

'Superb work, Mr Potter!' growled Moody's voice, and suddenly Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in his elbows seemed to double.

'Look at that everyone ... Mr Potter fought! He fought it, and he almost beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, if you're happy to - and the rest of you, pay attention - watch his eyes, that's where you see it - very good, Mr Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!'

After only four more attempts Harry was able to throw the curse of completely, though he was glad that he could just sit and watch for the rest of the lesson.

After his success the rest of the class couldn't wait to try, though no one else got close to throwing Professor Moody's curse off. Ron had had particular trouble and was lunging his way down the corridor, though had been assured that the effects would have worn off by lunchtime.

All the fourth-years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had set.

'You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!' she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. 'Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer -'

'We don't take O.W.Ls 'til fifth year!' said Dean Thomas indignantly 

'Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfac tory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!'

Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself.

Harry, Ron and Neville were deeply amused when Professsor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework in their next Divination class. She red portions of their predictions, commending them for the unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for them - but hey were less amused when she asked them to do the thing for the month after next; the three of them were running of ideas for catastrophes.

Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the Goblin Rebellions of the eighteenth century: Professor Black was forcing them to research antidotes. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace, given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted and, as part of their 'project', suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the Skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behaviour. 

'I most certainly will not,' said Theodore Nott flatly, when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra large toy out of his sack. 'It's bad enough being near them in lessons.'

Hagrid's smile faded from his face. 

'Yeh'll do wha' yer told,' he growled, 'or I'll be talkin' ter Professor Black ... yer already on thin enough ice as it is. Mind you, if yeh are expelled, I'm sure Dumbledore would find it in his heart ter find yeh an position here at Hogwarts ... I was thinkin' abou' gettin' an assistant to help me with these Skrewts daily ...'

The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Nott flushed with anger, but apparently the threat of expulsion was enough to stop him retorting.

After what Nott had done to Hermione to see Hagrid putting him down like that had put them all in particularly high spirits and she was finally talking to Ron and Neville again after two weeks of silence.

When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign which had heen erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Ron, the tallest of the four stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud to the other three.

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast._

'Only a week away! said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. 'I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him ...'

'Cedric?' said Ron blankly, as Ernie hurried off. 

'Diggory,' said Harry. 'He must be entering the Tournament.' 

'Him, Hogwarts champion?' said Ron, as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd towards the staircase. 

'I've heard he's a really good student - and he's a Prefect,' said Hermione. 'Besides he's in the Slug Club.' She spoke as though this settled the matter. 

'So is Pansy Parkinson,' said Ron scathingly.

'Actually Pansy got kicked out after laughing at what Nott did to me,' said Hermione indignantly.

The appearance of the sign in the Entrance Hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of coversation, no matter where Harry went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumours were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the Tournament would involve, how the students Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

Harry noticed, too, that the castle seemed to be undergone an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armour were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any student who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of staff seemed oddly tense, too.

'Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even per form a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!' Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus. 

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts house - red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms lion, eagle, badger and snake united around a large letter H.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville spotted Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices. Ron led the way over to them.

'He's going to love this one,' Fred was saying with excitement to George. 'I wish I could see his face when he tries it out.'

'Who's face?' said Ron, sitting down.

'Yours if you're not careful,' said Fred.

'Who's going to love what?' Ron asked George.

'I'm going to love slipping a Ton-Tongue Toffee into your breakfast if you don't stop being such a most git,' said George.

'You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?' Harry asked. 'Thought any more about trying to enter?'

'I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling,' said George bitterly. 'She just told me to shut up and get on with Transfiguring my raccoon.'

'Wonder what the tasks are going to be?' said Ron thoughtfully. 'You know, I bet we could do them, Harry, we've done dangerous stuff before.'

'Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't,' said Fred. 'McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks.'

'Who are the judges? Harry asked.

'Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel,' said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, 'because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage.' She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, 'It's all in Hogwarts: A History. Though, of course, that books not entirely reliable. "A Revised History of Hogwarts" would be a more accurate title. Or "A Highly Biased and Seclective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School".'

'What are you on about?' said Ron, though Harry thought he knew what was coming.

'House-elves!' said Hermione loudly and proving Harry right. 'Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts: A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!'

Harry shook his head, and applied himself to his scrambled eggs. It seemed that othing whatsoever could curb Hermione's determination to pursue justice for house-elves. True, Harry had paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W. badge, but he had only done it to keep her quiet. His Sickles had been wasted, however, if anything they seemed to have made Hermione more vociferous, especially since Ginny and Luna had joined her crusade. She had been badgering Harry ever since, firstly to wear the badge then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.

'You do realise that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?' she kept saying fiercely.

Ron, like a few others, had finally paid up just to stop Hermione glowering at him. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke. Neville had tried to talk to Hermione about it, but she had gone back to not talking to him.

Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leant towards Hermione.

'Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?'

'No, of course not,' said Hermione curtly. 'I hardly think students are supposed to.'

'Well, we have,' said George, indicating Fred, 'loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world.

'That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!' Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead which announced the arrival of the post owls. Harry looked up at once, and saw Hedwig soaring towards him. She fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder, folded her wings and held out her leg.

Harry pulled off the parchment and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds. There were coins attached.

'It's from Sirius,' he told them.

_Dearest godson,_

_I'm very disappointed that you haven't thought to write to me about the exciting news of the Triwizard Tournament. In fact, I can't believe you've not written to me at all, even about the most mundane details of your day. Imagine how I must feel to have heard from Kreacher that you managed to throw off an Imperious Curse!_

_Remus thinks Mad-Eye is being careless teaching you about Unforgivable Curses, but I'm glad that he and Dumbledore are reading the signs. I fear you're going to need this knowledge sooner rather than later._

_I also heard about Hermione's little project. Regulus has forbidden me from dismissing Kreacher, even if it is well within my right as the older brother, and even if I would love to see the back of him. However enclosed is a Galleon to join the good cause, I hope it is a suitable first donation._

_Sirius_

Harry handed the golden Galleon across to Hermione. 'Apparently Sirius wants a badge,' he said.

Hermione beamed and pulled a quill and parchment out of her bag. She scribbled a quick note, which she passed to Harry, along with a badge and manifesto.

'Send this to him when you reply please,' she said.

Neville took Hermione's happiness to pass two of his own Sickles across.

'Brooler's been in the family for years,' he said, 'but I agree with the principal of what you're saying, so I want to help if I can.'

Hermione looked as if she was going to burst into tears.

'Oh, I'm sorry, Neville,' she said, giving him a hug and throwing him off balance.

*

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air the rest of the day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. When the bell rang early, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks and rushed back downstairs into the Entrance Hall.

The Heads of houses were ordering their students into lines.

'Weasley, straighten your hat,' Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. 'Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair.'

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait. 

'Follow me, please,' said Professor McGonagall, 'first-years in front ... no pushing ...'

They filed down the front steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Harry, standing between Ron and Hermione in the fourth row from the front, saw Dennis Creevey positively shivering with anticipation among the other first-years.

'Nearly six,' said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive which led to the front gates. 'How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?'

'I doubt it,' said Hermione.

'How, then? Broomsticks?' Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

'Maybe they'll use a Portkey?' Neville suggested.

'Or they could Apparate,' said Ron. 'Maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?'

'You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?' said Hermione impatiently. 

(GOF 213-218)

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Harry caught a glimpse of a prominent, curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He didn't need the punch on the arm Ron gave him, it the hiss in his ear, to recognise that profile.

'Harry - it's Krum!'

But it wasn't the appearance of Krum that had shocked Harry the most. He was looking past Krum at by far the youngest of all the Durmstang students. Blond and scowling, hanging back and drowning in his fur cloak was none other than Draco Malfoy.


	47. The Goblet of Fire

'I don't believe it! Ron said in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. 'Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!'

'For heavens sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player,' said Hermione

'Only a Quidditch player?' Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. 'Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!'

'You did see Draco there as well, didn't you?' said Harry.

'Draco?' said Ron. 'What's he doing here?'

'Well obviously, he transferred to Durmstrang,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, but it's not like he can compete, is it?' said Harry. 'He's the same age as us, and the only other students who came were old enough to enter.'

As crossed the Entrance Hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students, heading for the Great Hall, Harry tried not to think about why Draco might have returned to Hogwarts with the other Durmstang students. Putting it out of his mind for a moment he saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked - 'Oh, I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me -' 'D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?'

'Really,' Hermione said loftily, as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick. 

'Well, I'm getting his autograph if I can,' said Ron, you haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?'

'Nope, they're upstairs in my bag,' said Harry. They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads. 

'It's not that cold,' said Hermione irritably, who was watching them. 'Why didn't they bring cloaks?'

'Over here! Come and sit over here!' Ron hissed. 'Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space - '

'What?'

'Too late,' said Ron bitterly Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table.

'Well what did you expect, Draco's with them, of course they're going to sit with him at the Slytherin table,' said Hermione.

Harry watched as Krum sat down, beckoning Draco to sit next to him. Theodore Nott made his way up the table and introduced himself to Krum.

'Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Nott,' said Ron scathingly 'l bet Malfoy's loving it, being back at the centre of the Slytherins. Krum can see right through them, though ... bet he gets people fawning over him all the time ... where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry. I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp-bed.'

Hermione snorted.

'They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot,' said Harry. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest: a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his mouldy old tail coat in honour of the occasion. Harry was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's

'But there are only two extra people,' Harry said. 'Why's Filch putting out four chairs? Who else is coming?'

'Maybe that's for the judges who will pick the champions?' suggested Neville

'Eh?' said Ron vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their house tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime.

(GOF 221-226)

'An Age Line!' Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the Entrance Hall. 'Well, that should be fooled by an Ageing Potion shouldn't it? And once your names in that Goblet you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!'

'But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance,' said Hermione, 'we just haven't learned enough.'

'Speak for yourself, said George shortly. 'You'll try and get in, won't you. Harry?'

Harry thought briefly of Dumbledore's insistence that nobody under seventeen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of himself winning the Triwizard Cup filled his mind again ... he wondered how angry Dumbledore would be if someone younger than seventeen did find a way to get over the Age Line ...

'Where is he?' said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. 'Merlin's beard he's walking straight towards us! Everyone act cool. Act cool, Neville!'

He shook Neville around the shoulders as if to make his point as Krum walked over to them.

'You are Harry Potter,' he said, drawing level. It was a statement rather than a question. 'Yes, your friend Draco is telling me all about you.'

Harry wasn't sure what to say, but noticed Draco was standing just behind Krum, looking at the ground. Ron was practically hyperventilating with excitement next to Harry and didn't seem to be aware of what Krum was saying.

'Hi,' Ron managed to squeak out, before clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. 'Er - hi - you're amazing.'

Krum looked at Ron, his brow furrowed.

'We saw you at the World Cup - the way you fly - incredible!'

Before anyone could say anything else, Karkaroff came over saying, 'Back to the ship, then. Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?' 

Krum shook his head as he pulled his furs tighter together.

'Professor, I vood like some vine,' said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

'I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakov' snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. 'I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy.' Karkuroff turned to lead his students towards the doors, but stopped to turn his head back to Harry, and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face, and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry, too. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry's forehead.

'Harry Potter,' said Karkaroff slowly.

'Yeah, that's him alright. The one who stopped Voldemort,' said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang Headmaster.

The colour drained from Karkaroff's face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over his face.

'You!' he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him. 

'Me,' said Moody grimly. 'It's always good to run into an old friend Karkaroff.'

From the look on Karkaroff's face Harry could tell that he and Moody had history, but he wasn't sure it was a friendship. Professor Karkaroff gave a weak smile.

'Well, I think it's time we headed back to the ship now, goodnight,' Karkaroff said sweeping his students away with him. Moody watched him out of sight magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike his mutilated face.

*

As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfast late. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville however were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did weekends, When they went down into the Entrance Hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been place in the centre of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

'Anyone put their name in yet?' Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly. 

'All the Durmstrang lot,' she replied. 'Except Malfoy, of course - why is he back here do you think?'

'No idea,' said Ron. 'Any of our lot out their names in?'

'I haven't seen any one from Hogwarts yet, no.'

'Bet some of them put in last night after we'd all gone to bed,' said Harry. 'I would've done if it had been me... wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the Goblet just gobbed you right back out again?' 

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred George and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

'Done it,' Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville. 'Just taken it.' 

'What?' said Ron.

'The Ageing Potion, dungbrains,' said Fred. 

'One drop each,' said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. 'We only need to be a few months older.'

'We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins,' said Lee, grinning broadly. 

'I'm not sure this is going to work, you know,' said Hermione warningly. 'I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this.'

(GOF 229-233)

A light rain had started to fall by mid-afternoon; it was very cosy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves - for he flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges. 

'It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione,' he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. 'It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an insulin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em.'

'But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!' said Hermione. 'And we heard he's asking for wages now!'

'Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it - no, nothin' doin', Hermione.'

'You're just a bad as Professor Black!' said Hermione. 'He refuses to pay his house-elf even though Sirius agrees with me.'

'From wha' I've heard, Hermione, Sirius never did like tha' house-elf much. Do yeh reckon we'd get everythin' done around this place if it weren't for House-elves?'

'But that's exactly my point! They should be recompensed for their services!'

'If yeh convince them o' that, then I'll consider helpin' out, but until then ...'

Hermione looked very cross indeed, and badges back into her cloak pocket.

By half past five it was growing dark and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville decided it was time to get back up to the eat the Hallowe'en feast - and, more importantly, the announcement of the school champions.

'I'll come with yeh,' said Hagrid, putting away his damine

Jus' give us a sec.

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed and began searching for something inside it. They didn't pay too much attention, until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils.

Coughing, Ron said, 'Hagrid, whats that?' 

'Eh?' said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. 'Don't like it?'

'Is that aftershave?' said Hermione, in a slightly choked voice.

'Er - eau-de-Cologne,' Hagrid muttered. He was blushing. 'Maybe it's a bit much,' he said gruffly. 'I'll go take it off, hang on.

He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window. 

'Eau-de-Cologne?' said Hermione in amazement. 'Hagrid?'

'And what's with the hair and the suit?' said Harry in an undertone.

'Look!' said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window.

Hagrid had just straightened up and turned round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to their feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast, too. They couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression Harry had only seen him wear once before when he had been looking at the baby dragon, Norbert. 

'He's going up to the castle with her,' said Hermione indignantly. 'I thought he was waiting for us?' 

Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

'He fancies her' said Ron incredulously. 'Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record - bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton.' 

They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind them. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around themselves, they set off up the sloping lawns.

'Ooh, its them, look!' Hermione whispered.

The Durmstrang party were walking up towards the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking with Karkaroff on his right and Draco on his left. The other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. 

'D'you think Draco is Krum's assistant or something?' said Ron, as he watched them walking across the lawn.

'If he is I hope he's getting paid, otherwise Hermione'll be after him,' Harry muttered in an undertone so only Ron could hear. 

The Durmstangs got to the Entrance Hall a little ahead of Harry and his friends. When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Fred and George - clean shaven again - seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well. 

'Hope it's Angelina,' said Fred, as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville sat down. 

'So do I,' said Hermione breathlessly. 'Well we'll soon know!'

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, Harry didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as he would normally have done. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, he impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, he simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

(GOF 236-238)


	48. The Four Champions

(GOF 239-241)

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black satin bosom swelled

'What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?' she said imperisouly.

'I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore,' said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. 'Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?'

He gave a short and nasty laugh. 

'C'est impossible,' said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleure shoulder. 'Hogwarts cannot'aave two champions. It is most injust.'

'We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore,' said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. 'Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools.'

'Surely you don't mean to accuse Professor Dumbledore of cheating Karkaroff?' said Professor Black, his eyes narrowed at the Durmstang Headmaster with a look of pure contempt. 'That's not something you want to go around doing without any proof.'

'Thank you for your defense, Regulus,' said Dumbledore firmly, and Black went quiet, though his eyes still glared at Karkaroff. 'I'm sure that is not what Igor is trying to imply.'

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

'Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?' Dumbledore asked calmly.

"No,' said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely.

'Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?' said Professor Dumbledore, never once with a hint of anger.

'No,' said Harry vehemently. 

'Ah, but of course 'e is lying!' cried Madame Maxime. 

'He could not have crossed the Age Line,' said Professor McGonagall sharply. 'I am sure we are all agreed on that.'

'Dumbly-door must have made a mistake wiz ze line,' said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

'It is possible, of course,' said Dumbledore politely.

'Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!' said Professor McGonagall angrily. 'Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!'

She shot a very angry look at Madame Maxime. 

'Mr Crouch ... Mr Bagman,' said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, 'you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?'

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr Crouch, who had been listening to all intently, his eyes looking hungry in the firelight. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice. 'The rules state that whoever's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire must compete in the Tournament. Therefore, whether he cheated his way into becoming a champion or not, Mr Potter must compete.'

'Well, Barty knows the rulebook back to front,' said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

'I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students,' said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. 'You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore'

'But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that,' said Bagman. 'The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't re-ignite until the start of the next Tournament!'

'In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!' exploded Karkaroff. 'After all our meetings and negotiations and compromise, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!'

'You can't leave your champion now,' said Mr Crouch firmly. 'He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. It's a binding magical contract.'

'This is ridiculous,' said Black. 'Harry's just a boy! You cannot seriously be considering allowing him to compete. On this matter I agree with Karkaroff.'

'An interesting thing to see the two of you agree with each other again,' growled Professor Moody who had just entered the room. He limped towards the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk. 'But I think the two of you are not considering why Harry has been chosen as a champion.'

'I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody,' said Karkaroff.

Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

'Well understand this, Karkaroff,' said Moody quietly. 'Someone put Mr Potter's name in that Goblet knowing he'd have to compete when it came out.'

'Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!' said Madame Maxime,

'I quite agree, Madame Maxime,' said Karkaroff, bowing to her. 'I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards - 

'Don't be stupid Karkaroff!' snapped Moody. 'We all know these games are dangerously! We all know that people have died in the past! Even with all the safety measures in place this year there's a reason the age limit is seventeen! My years as an Auror give me a greater insight into the Dark Arts, and there's some very Dark Magic going on here. It is my professional opinion that someone wants Harry dead.'

'You can't be serious!' said Karkaroff. 'Who would want that?'

'Hmm ... let me think ...' growled Moody sarcastically. 'How about Voldemort?' Everyone but Harry and Dumbledore flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name. 'We all now know that Peter Pettigrew is very much alive and has been searching for your old master. Maybe he's found him ...'

An extremely tense silence followed these words.

Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, 'Moody old man ... what a thing to say!'

'We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime,' said Karkaroff loudly. 'Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination, too. An odd quality in a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons.'

'It would have taken an incredibly strong wizard to bamboozle the Goblet of Fire, Karkaroff,' said Moody. 'All of us know that. I assume the culprit put Harry's name in under a fourth school. It would have needed an Confundus Charm of exceptional power to trick the Goblet into thinking that four schools compete and not three.'

'You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody,' said Karkaroff coldly, 'and a very ingenious theory it is - though, of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realising it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously.'

'It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - or had you forgotten.'

'Alastor!' said Dumbledore warningly. Harry wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realised Mad-Eye could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still intensely surveying Karkaroff whose face was burning.

'How this situation arose, we do not know,' said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. 'It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do ...'

'Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -'

'My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative would be delighted to hear it.'

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak she merely glared. She wasn't the only one, either. Karkaroff was livid, McGonagall and Black were slackjawed in disbelief. Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

'Well, shall we crack on, then?' he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. 'Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honours?'

Mr Crouch, who had been staring at Harry, turned to face his colleague. 'Yes, he said, instructions, of course. The first task is designed to test your daring, he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur and Krum, 'so we will not be telling you what you will be facing. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard. I will however tell you that the first task will take place on November the twenty fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

'Champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the Tournament. You are permitted to face thr first task with your wands. You will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the Tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests.' Mr Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. 'I don't think I've forgotten anything, have I, Dumbledore?'

'I believe you covered everything, Barty,' said Dumbledore. 'Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?'

'No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry,' said Mr Crouch. 'I'm incredibly busy at the moment ... Percy Weasley's taken the reigns whilst I've been here, but he's fresh out of school, a lot of responsibility for one so young.' He glanced at Harry when he said this.

'You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?' said Dumbledore.

'Come on, Barty, I'm staying!' said Bagman brightly. 'It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!'

'I'm can't disagree, Ludo,' said Crouch, with a touch of his old impatience, 'but there are those of us who take their work seriously.'

'Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap? said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders, and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

'Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed,' said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. 'I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise.'

Harry glanced at Cedric, who nodded and they left together.

The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burnt low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality

'So,' said Cedric, with a slight smile. 'We're playing against each other again!'

'I s'pose, said Harry. He really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of his head seemed to be in complete disarray as though his brain had been ransacked.

'So ... tell me ...' said Cedric, as they reached the Entrance Hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. 'How did you get your name in?'

'I didn't, said Harry, staring up at him. 'I didn't put it in, I was telling the truth.'

'Ah ... OK,' said Cedric. Harry could tell Cedric didn't believe him. 'Well... see you, then.' 

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, started to climb the marble ones. 

Was anyone except Ron, Hermione and Neville going to believe him, or would they all think he'd put himself in for the Tournament? Yet how could anyone think that, when he was facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than he had - when he was now facing tasks which not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? Yes, he'd thought about it ... he'd fantasised about it ... but it had been a joke, really, an idle sort of dream ... he'd never really, seriously considered entering ... 

But someone else had considered it ... someone else had wanted him in the Tournament, and had made sure he was entered. Why? To give him a treat? He didn't think so, somehow. To see him make a fool of himself? Well, they were likely to get their wish ...

But to get him killed? Was Moody just being his usual paranoid self? Couldn't someone have put Harry's name in the Goblet as a trick, a practical joke? Did anyone really want him dead?

Moody had already answered that. Yes, someone wanted him dead, someone had wanted him dead ever since he had been a year old ... and Moody had named him ... Lord Voldemort. But how could Voldemort have ensured that Harry's name got into the Goblet of Fire? Voldemort was supposed to by far away, in some distant country, in hiding, alone ... feeble and powerless ... 

Yet in that dream he had had, just before he had awoken with his scar hurting, Voldemort had not been alone ... he had been talking to Wormtail ... plotting Harry's murder ... 

Harry got a shock to find himself facing the Fat Lady already. He had barely noticed where his feet were carrying him. It was also a surprise to see that she was not alone in her frame. The wizened witch who had flitted into her neighbour's painting when he had joined the champions downstairs was now sitting smugly beside the Fat Lady. She must have dashed through every picture lining seven staircases to reach here before him. Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at him with the keenest interest. 

'Well, well, well,' said the Fat Lady, 'Violet's just told me everything. 'Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?' 

'Balderdash,' said Harry dully.

'It most certainly isn't!' said the pale witch indignantly.

'No, no, Vi, it's the password,' said the Fat Lady soothingly. and she swung forwards on her hinges to let Harry into the common room. 

The blast of noise that met Harry's ears when the portrait opened almost knocked him backwards. Next thing he knew, he was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor house, all of whom were screaming, applause and whistling. 

'You should've told us you'd entered!' bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

'How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!' roared George.

'I didn't, Harry said. 'I don't know how -'

But Angelina had now swooped down upon him. 'Oh, if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor.' 

'Diggory's no match for you on the Quidditch pitch, Harry! You'll beat him with ease!' shrieked Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers.

'We've got food, Harry, come and have some -'

'I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast -'

But nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that he wasn't in the mood to celebrate ... Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak. Harry couldn't get away; whenever he tried to slide over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another Butterbeer on him, stuffing crisps and peanuts ino his hands ... everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line, and managed to get his name into the Goblet...

'I didn't,' he said, over and over again, 'I don't know how it happened.'

But for all the notice anyone took, he might just as well not have answered at all.

'I'm tired!' he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. 'No, seriously, George - I'm going to bed.'

'He wanted more than anything to find Ron, Hermione and Neville, to find a bit of sanity, but none of them seemed to be in the common room. Insisting that he needed to sleep and almost flattening the little Creevey brothers as they attempted to waylay him at the foot of the stairs, Harry managed to shake every one off, and climbed up to the dormitory as fast as he could.

To his great relief, he found Ron and Neville were lying on their beds in the otherwise empty dormitory, still fully dressed. Harry slammed the door behind him.

'Where've you two been?' Harry said. 

'Oh, hello,' said Ron. He was grinning, but it looked a very odd, strained sort of grin. Harry suddenly became aware that he was still wearing the scarlet Gryffindor banner that Lee had tied around him. He hastened to take it off, but it was knotted very tightly. Ron lay on the bed without moving, watching Harry struggle to remove it.

'So,' Ron said, after Neville had helped Harry finally removed the banner who threw it into a corner. 'Congratulations.'

'What d'you mean, congratulations?" said Harry, staring at Ron. There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling, it was more like a grimace. 

'Well ... no one else got across the Age Line,' said Ron. 'Not even Fred and George. What did you use - the Invisibility Cloak?' 

'The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line,' said Harry slowly. 

'Oh, right,' said Ron, I thought you might've told us if it was the Cloak ... because it would've covered two of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?' 

'Listen,' said Harry, 'I didn't put my name in that Goblet. Someone else must've done it.'

'I tried to tell him that ...' Neville mumbled.

Ron raised his eyebrows. 'What would they do that for?' 

'I dunno,' said Harry. He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say 'to kill me'.

Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. 'It's OK, you know, you can tell us the truth,' he said. 'If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all, Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either ...'

'I didnt put my name in that Goblet!' said Harry, starting to feel angry.

'Yeah, OK,' said Ron, in exactly the same sceptical tone as Cedric. 'Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you .. I'm not stupid, you know.

'You're doing a really good impression of it,' Harry snapped. 

'Hey!' said Neville. 'Don't say anything you'll regret. Ron, you know Harry wouldn't have put his name in -'

'Do I?' said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on his face now. 'How are you so sure?'

'Don't talk to Neville like that,' said Harry, glad to have at least one of his friends on his side.

'I suppose you'll want to get some sleep, Harry,' said Ron. 'I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photocall or something.

He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him. He looked over at Neville, who mouthed a 'sorry'.

Harry shrugged. At least he still had Neville.


	49. The Weighing of the Wands

When Harry woke up on Sunday morning, it took him a moment to remember why he felt so miserable and worried. Then the memory of the previous night rolled over him. He sat up and ripped back the curtains of his own four-poster, intending to talk to Ron, to force Ron to believe him - only to find that Ron's bed was empty: he had obviously gone down to breakfast. Harry was alone in the dormitory.

Harry dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. The moment he appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest of the Gryffindors, all treating him like some sort of hero, was not inviting, it was that, however, or stay here and allow him self to be cornered by the Creevey brothers, who were both beckoning frantically to him to join them. He walked resolutely over to the portrait hole, pushed it open, climbed out of it and found himself face to face with Hermione and Neville

'Hello,' said Hermione, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin. 'We brought you this ... want to go for a walk?' 

'Good idea,' said Harry, gratefully.

They went downstairs, crossed the Entrance Hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn towards the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving, munching their toast, as Harry told Hermione and Neville exactly what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before. To his immense relief, Hermione accepted his story without question.

'Well, of course, I knew you hadnt entered yourself,' Hermione said when he'd finished telling her about the scene chamber of the Hall. 'The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who put it in? Because Moody's right, Harry ... I don't think student could have done it they'd never be able to fool the Goblet or get over Dumbledore's line ... but does it can't be You-Know-Who, can it? Surely Pettigrew can't have found him yet ...'

Harry had so far only told Sirius about his dream over the summer, but realised that he now had to confide in Hermione and Neville.

'Why didn't you tell us before, Harry?' said Hermione with concern.

'I didn't want to worry you.'

'Have you told Dumbledore?' said Neville.

'Not yet, only Sirius,' said Harry. 'But he said to keep him informed if my scar hurt again.'

'You need to let him know about this, and what Moody thinks,' said Hermione.

'Have you seen Ron?' Harry said, wanting to change the subject.

'Yeah,' said Neville. 'I went down to breakfast with him. I tried to convince him you wouldn't have entered without telling us.'

'I don't think he believes it really, said Hermione quickly.

'What's that supposed to mean?' said Harry.

'Oh, Harry, isn't it obvious?' Hermione said despairingly. 'Hes jealous!'

'Jealous?' Harry said incredulously. 'Jealous of what?He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?'

'Look,' said Hermione patiently. 'It's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault,' she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously, 'I know you don't ask for it ... but - well - you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous - he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and with us three all in the Slug Club - and Ginny too - and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many ...'

'Great,' said Harry bitterly. 'Really great. Tell him from me he can swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it ... people gawping at my forehead everywhere I go ...'

'I'm not telling him anything,' Hermione said shortly. 'And neither is Neville. Tell him yourself, it's the only way to sort this out.'

'I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!' Harry said so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. 'Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or -'

'That's not funny, said Hermione quietly. 'That's not funny at all.' She looked extremely anxious.

They stood in silence for a moment and Harry threw his last piece of toast into the lake. The three of them watched it floating there for a moment, before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface. Then they began to make their way back to the castle.

As they passed the Durmstang ship again a figure came out of it.

'What's Professor Black doing on the Durmstrang ship?' said Harry as they watched him walk closer. Before Hermione or Neville could answer he was at their side.

'Ah, Mr Potter,' he said. 'Miss Granger, Mr Longbottom. Enjoying the early morning air?'

'Something like that,' said Harry.

'I suspect that you're glad to get away from everyone,' Professor Black continued. 'I want to assure you, Me Potter, we are doing all we can to get to the bottom of this. Remember you can always talk to one of us teachers if you need to.'

His eyes bore into Harry who said nothing.

'I'm glad I've bumped into you three actually,' Black continued in a less serious manner. 'I have arranged our next meeting for next Saturday afternoon at two o'clock, on the Quidditch pitch this time please.'

'The Quidditch pitch?' said Neville nervously.

'Yes, Mr Longbottom,' said Black. 'The Quidditch Pitch. And please be at your most respectable, we will have the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang Champions joining us.'

They had reached the castle now, and Black headed back down to the dungeons.

'Let's go to the Owlery,' said Harry, having made up his mind about what he was going to say to Sirius.

When they got to the Owlery Hermione gave Harry a piece of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink, then she and Neville strolled around long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, while Harry sat down against a wall and wrote his letter.

_Dear Sirius,_

_Sorry I've not written much, but some weird stuff is happening, so I thought you ought to know. I'm sure you've already heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night I got picked as a fourth champion. I don't know who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, because I didn't - Professor Moody seems to think it's Voldemort. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff._

_Draco Malfoy is back at school. He's been transferred to Durmstrang and seems to have made friends with their Champion - Viktor Krum! Your brother was hanging around their ship this morning._

He paused at this point, thinking. He had an urge to say some thing about the large weight of anxiety that seemed to have settled inside his chest since last night, but he couldn't think how to translate this into words, so he simply dipped his quill back into the ink bottle and wrote:

_Hermione thanks you for joining S.P.E.W. by the way - Harry_

'Finished,' he told Hermione and Neville, getting to his feet and brushing straw off his robes. At this, Hedwig came fluttering down onto his shoulder. Harry tied the parchment to Hedwig's outstretched leg and she flew off into the morning sky.

*

If Harry had thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of him being champion, the following day showed him how mistaken he was. He could no longer avoid the rest of the school once he was back at lessons - and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought Harry had entered himself for the Tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold towards the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff house very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the lew who had ever given them any. Hannah Abbott, who Harry had always got on well with, did not talk to Harry, Hermione or Neville - who usually got on with her particularly well through their shared love of magical plants - even though they were re-potting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who were working on the next tray along, laughed rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. Ron wasn't talking to Harry either. He was sat the other side of Hermione, who was making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other. Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him - but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff house.

He would have been looking forward to seeing Hagrid under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins, to - the first time he would come face to face with them since becoming champion.

Predictably Nott was as surly as ever.

'Yet again,' he was saying loudly to his fellow Slytherins, 'the rules don't apply to Saint Potter. Though he has been living on borrowed time these past thirteen years. I doubt he'll make it past the first task.'

Pansy giggled as usual at Nott's words, but at that moment Hagrid emerged from the back cabin holding a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt, and with the risk of expulsion looming Nott stopped talking. To the class's horror Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the Skrewts had been killing each other was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for catch of the class to fix a leash on Skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Nott completely.

'Take a Skrewt for a walk?' he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. 'How? Feeding them is dangerous enough!'

'You put the leash roun' the middle,' said Hagrid, demonstrating. 'Er might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry - you come here an help me with this big one ...' 

Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry away from the rest of the class.

He waited until everyone else had set off with their Skrewts, then turned to Harry and said, very seriously, 'So - yer competin', Harry. In the Tournament. School champion.'

'One of the champions.' Harry corrected him.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows. 'No idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry'

'You believe I didn't do it, then?' said Harry, concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude he felt at Hagrid's words.

'Course I do,' Hagrid grunted. 'Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe ye - an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all'

'Wish I knew who did do it,' said Harry bitterly.

The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The Skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colourless, they had developed a kind of thick, greyish shiny armour. They looked like a cross between ant scorpions and elongated crabs - but still without recognisable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.

'Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?' Hagrid said happily. Harry assumed he was talking about the Skrewts, because his classmates certainly weren't; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the Skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet. 

'Ah, I don't know, Harry,' Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at him with a worried expression on his face. 'School champion ... everythin' seems ter happen to you, doesn' it?'

Harry didn't answer. Yes, everything did seem to happen to him that was more or less what Hermione had said as they had walked around the lake with Neville, and that was the reason, according to her, that Ron was no longer talking to him.

*

The next few days were some of Harry's worst at Hogwarts. The closest he had ever come to feeling like this had been during those months, in his second year, when a large part of the school had suspected him of attacking his fellow students. But Ron had been on his side then. He thought he could have coped with the rest of the school's behaviour if he could just have had Ron back as a friend, but he wasn't going to try and persuade Ron to talk to him if Ron didn't want to. Nevertheless, it was lonely, with dislike pouring in on him from all sides.

He could understand the Hufflepuffs' attitudes, even if he didn't like it; they had their own champion to support. He expected nothing less than vicious insults from the Slytherins - he was highly unpopular there and always had been, as he had helped Gryffindor beat them so often, both at Quidditch and in the Inter-House Championship. But hehad hoped the Ravenclaw might have found it in their hearts to support him as much as Cedric. He was wrong, however. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that he had been desperate to earn himself bit more fame by tricking the Goblet into accepting his name. 

Then there was the fact that Cedric looked the part of champion so much more than he did. Exceptionally hand some, with his straight nose, dark hair and grey eyes, it was hard to say who was receiving more admiration these days, Cedric or Viktor Krum. Harry actually saw the same sixth-year girls who had been so keen to get Krums autograph, begging Cedric to sign their school bags one lunchtime.

He'd received a response from Sirius almost immediately. As expected Sirius had voiced his concern, and repeated Moody's maxim of remaining vigilant. He did reiterate his thoughts that with Moody and Dumbledore in the castle there was no way Voldemort would be able to try to kill him, even if he had returned, but this didn't do much to raise Harry's spirits.

In Divination Professor Trelawney was predicting his death with even more certainty than usual. He found his Transfiguration work particularly difficult, much to Professor McGonagall's dsimay.

'Just because you are exempt from examinations this year, Mr Potter,' she said, 'does not mean you do not need to do the work in class.'

At least he did alright in Professor Flitwick's class where they were attempting Summoning Charms, something Harry had known how to do since his Second Year at Hogwarts. For most of that lesson he was helping Neville get to grips with it.

Halfway through Double Potions that week there was a knock at dungeon door.

It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Black's desk at the front of the room.

'Mr Creevey, how can I help you?' Professor Black asked.

'Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs.'

'I see. May I ask who is looking for Mr Potter?' said Black. 'He is, after all, in the middle of a lesson.'

'Mr Bagman, sir, all the champions have to go, I think they want to take photographs.

Harry would have done anything he owned to have stopped Colin from saying those last few words. He chanced half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.

'Well then, I quite understand. Mr Potter, please collect your belongings and follow Mr Creevey for your photo call. I will send your homework on with Miss Granger who I trust will pass it on.'.

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up and headed for the door.

'It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?' said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry had closed the dungeon door behind him. 'Isn't it though? You being champion?'

'Yeah, really amazing,' said Harry heavily, as they set off towards the steps into the Entrance Hall. 'What do they want photos for, Colin?'

'The Daily Prophet, I think!'

'Great,' said Harry, dully. 'Exactly what I need. More publicity.'

'Good luck!' said Colin, when they had reached the right room, Harry knocked on the door, and entered.

(GOF 265-273)

The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, who Harry would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry into greater prominence. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last, they were free to go.

Harry went down for dinner and found Hermione and Neville, who handed over his Potions homework. Ron had been sitting with them, but let as soon as Harry walked into the Great Hall.

'I see he's not changed his mind, then,' said Harry. 

'You're going to have to talk to each other sooner or later,' said Hermione in exasperation.

'That's rich coming from you, Hermione,' Harry snapped. 'How long did you not talk to Neville, just because his gran had a house-elf?'

Harry immediately regretted what he'd said. Hermione said nothing, but stood up and made her own way out of the Great Hall.


	50. The Competition

Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny walked down to the Quidditch pitch together the next day and, despite himself, Harry was in high spirits. Maybe it was the shining sun and crisp air. It could have been the excitement of being down at the Quidditch pitch once more. Or perhaps it was the thought of not having to think about Ron ignoring him for a while afternoon.

As they trudged their way down they found Professor Black already there with the handful of Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students who were part of the Slug Club, as well as Viktor and Fleur, deep in conversation. Next to Viktor was Draco Malfoy, who looked as if he wished he could be anywhere else. Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and chaser, was hanging onto every word Fleur said.

'Good afternoon,' Professor Black greeted the four of them as they walked up, 'kind of you to join us .'

In the distance they heard the great Hogwarts clock chime two.

'Just in time,' said Harry.

'Quite,' Black said shortly. 'Now you may be wondering why I have asked you all here to the Quidditch pitch, on this glorious afternoon. I thought that with a World Class Seeker in our midst a little friendly competition was in order. Particularly as we have a number of Quidditch players in our club.'

'You 'ave brought me out into zis cold field just for zis?' said Fleur, at which point Roger Davies took his cloak off and draped it around her shoulders. 'I do not fly.'

'Well, Mademoiselle Delacour, you, and any others who don't wish to participate, are more than welcome to sit in the stands. I'm sure our students will make you feel very at home. Anyone who wishes to join in, please make your way to the changing rooms.'

The group split up, and Harry, excited to be back on a broomstick, followed Cedric and Cho as they led the way, showing Viktor where the changing rooms were. Surprisingly Ginny was at Harry's side as he headed off the pitch. At the insistence of Professor Black, Draco followed behind.

Once changed the eleven players, and Black with a crate at his feet, stood in the centre of the Quidditch pitch. It would seem that there were still no secrets at Hogwarts and students from all three schools had begun to fill out the stands. 

'And here come out contestants!' Harry could hear Lee Jordan saying from his commentary box. 'From Slytherin we have Adrian Pucey, who has been their top scoring Chaser for three years running.'

Harry heard a cheer from the Slytherins in the stand, and polite claps from the Durmstang students, though overwhelmingly there boos from all other Hogwarts houses. 

'From Ravenclaw we have their Seeker, Cho Chang, their Quidditch Captain and Chaser, Roger Davies and, for some reason, Fourth Year, Michael Corner.' Cheers went up from the Ravenclaw students this time, with Beauxbatons on polite clapping duty.

'From Hufflepuff we have two more newbies to the pitch, Eurig Cadwaller and Martin Summerby, as well as the first of our Triwizard champions, Cedric Diggory!'

This time the cheers echoing around the stands were deafening as everyone from Slytherin and Ravenclaw joined in the applause.

'And from Gyffindor,' Lee continued, 'we have another debut in Ginny Weasley - let's see if she's inherited the Quidditch gene from her brothers - and our second Hogwarts champion, and eventual Triwizard winner, Harry Potter.'

Even Gryffindor's exuberant cheers couldn't drown out the boos coming from every other student in the stadium. With a sinking heart Harry noted that it was the most animated he'd seen the Beauxbatons since their arrival.

'And finally, from Durmstrang, we welcome back former Slytherin Seeker, Draco Malfoy -'

There were no cheers here, only booing. Harry glanced across to Draco, who had a grimace set across his face.

'- and finally, needing no introduction, the greatest player of this year's World Cup, the amazing, Viktor Krum!'

Again the stadium filled with cheers, the Durmstrang students were particularly raucous, and though they weren't as enthusiastic as when Cedric was announced, Harry noticed the Hogwarts students were more receptive to Krum than they had been to himself.

'The game is simple,' Lee explained, as much to those on the pitch as to those off it. 'There is one Golden Snitch. The first to catch it wins. The Prize? A Quaffle signed by the 1994 World Cup winners, Ireland! But we're not going to make it easy, please welcome to the pitch your Beaters!'

Sure enough a crowd had emerged from changing rooms on the other side of the pitch.

'From Gryffindor, Fred and George Weasley! From Slytherin, Lucien Bike and Peregrine Derrick! And from Durmstrang, Janis Bleive and Aleksandr Poliakoff!'

The six players made their way up the pitch.

'Alright, Harry?' said Fred, grinning.

'Good luck, Malfoy,' said George, winking.

'The Beaters will be circling the field,' Professor Black explained. 'They will _not_ be targeting any individuals,' he looked pointedly at the Weasley twins, 'but rather passing Bludgers across the pitch to one another, making your paths to the Snitch harder to find.'

'Professor, how are we meant to catch the Snitch?' said Cedric, voicing everyone's question. 'None of us have a broom.'

Black smiled.

'You'll see,' he said cryptically. 'Beaters, mount your brooms.'

The six Beaters mounted as instructed and on Black's whistle kicked off from the ground. Black released six Bludgers from his crate. The Beaters began passing the Bludgers between them. In a hypnotic fashion they whizzed across the pitch, high and low, left to right. Then Black released the Snitch. Harry watched as it flitted off out of reach.

'Ready?' Black asked, raising his wand. 'Accio broomsticks!' he shouted.

For a moment nothing happened. Then from the side of the pitch came a clattering if Cleansweep Sevens. Everyone raced to get hold of one. Harry waited, keeping his eye on the Snitch, not wanting to be lose it in the fray.

After most of the students had flown off and were frantically searching for the Snitch, Harry reached down for a broom.

'All gone,' came Krum's voice.

'Apparently we three all far too gentlemanly and were left with nothing,' said Cedric. 'Professor Black neglected to tell us we'd be a few brooms short of a match, as it were.'

Harry's eyes left the Snitch and saw that Krum and Cedric were right. Cedric started to laugh.

'The three champions, left in the dust,' he chuckled.

'Maybe not,' said Krum, squinting towards the lake. Sure enough two dots in the distance were coming closer. Krum grabbed ahold of one of the new broomsticks as it reached the three of them.

'My Firebolt,' he said in appreciation before kicking off.

Harry had ducked as the second broom made it's way straight for him, and Cedric managed to catch it.

'A Nimbus 2001,' he said, looking at the handle.

'I bet that's Draco's,' said Harry.

'Well, he's not using it,' Cedric smiled, as he mounted it and kicked off leaving Harry alone.

Then, from the castle itself he saw one more broomstick heading his way. He knew this was his own Firebolt. He braced himself to catch it, hoping that Krum wouldn't catch the Snitch before he even managed to get airborne.

He mounted his and kicked off quicker than he'd ever done so in his life and felt the wind rushing through his hair. Suddenly all his worries washed away as he soared through the air. He was dodging Bludgers left and right as he sped up high to get a better view. A lot of the newer players were following one another in a pack, though Ginny, he noticed, was weaving in and out of Bludgers and Beaters on the edge of the pitch.

Draco, Cedric and Cho were also weaving, constantly on the look out. Harry had never missed a snitch before now, but he had also never faced ten other seekers at the same time. He didn't particularly care about the Quaffle, and he know Krum certainly wouldn't; this was a game of pride. Like Harry, Krum was watching from up high. Krum was a professional and would be hard to beat. But Harry knew his fellow Seekers. He knew Draco would speed off under the pretence that he had spotted the Snitch. He knew Cho was a follower, hoping to beat you to the chase. He knew Cedric was world class if he put his full attention to it, and he would definitely have his full attention this afternoon.

Harry knew the only way to beat these players was to look for the Snitch and not worry about the other players. He'd faced tougher challenges with higher stakes, such as the flying keys in his first year - one of the tasks protecting the philosopher's stone, and preventing Harry from stopping Voldemort for the second time in his life.

He focused and looked for that glint of gold he knew so well. There it was - hovering on the far side of the pitch. Harry sped towards it, a split second later Krum headed in the same direction.

They were neck and neck. Harry edged up his broom, trying to gain the advantage. The Snitch flitted around the pitch, but both Harry and Krum were gaining on it. Suddenly Harry saw two streaks of colour coming from the other direction. Cedric and Draco were closing in. And there was Cho on their tail. The five of them were closing in, the Snitch flew up high, and their five broomsticks followed suit at the lightest touch.

Cho had overtaken Draco now. Cedric had the easy lead on the Nimbus 2001. The rest of the flyers were too far away.

Cedric was closer but Harry and Krum had the advantage of faster brooms. As the Snitch turned again, Cedric was out of the race. Draco was trying to cut them off now, coming up from below, as they chased the Snitch to the ground. Harry and Krum outstretched their hands, both within a whisper of the Snitch. Draco sped out of the way in fear of crashing. Harry and Krum were nudging one another now, both struggling to bear down on the Snitch. They were getting closer and closer to the muddy pitch now. They veered into one another and as they tumbled from their brooms into the mud a flash of red passed them.

Krum got up and spat to the ground, before extending his arm to Harry, who was wiping his glasses clean. Harry noticed there was a hush over the stadium. Then Lee Jordan spoke.

'I don't believe it ...'

'Well done,' said Harry, sure that Krum had caught the Snitch in those final moments.

'Not me you congratulate,' said Krum. 'Her.' He pointed into the air.

'GINNY WEASLEY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!' Lee Jordan shouted. 'GINNY WEASLEY HAS BEATEN BOTH HARRY POTTER AND THE GREATEST SEEKER IN THE WORLD, VIKTOR KRUM! ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE PLAY!'

Harry laughed. Who knew Ginny Weasley was a world class Seeker? Their fellow competitors flew back to the ground and Harry and Krum ran over to congratulate Ginny.

'Looks like you're out of a job,' came a voice at Harry's ear. He turned to see Draco.

'You almost had us on the ropes there, Draco,' Harry said. Draco gave a half smile before looking away. 'Why didn't you open any of my letters?'

'Why would I? What could I tell you?' Draco said. 'My dad sent me away because he didn't want me to be friends with muggle-borns and blood-traitors? He didn't want me to be bullied by my housemates? He felt it was about time I learnt Dark Arts? That he felt Karkaroff was a better role model than Black?'

Harry could see Draco was trying to hold back tears.

'Yes,' he said simply.

'What could you have done?' Draco said.

'I could've been a friend ...'

'I don't need friends.'

'Everyone needs friends, Draco.'

Draco turned away, and Harry went back to the celebrations. The Gryffindors had piled onto the pitch were crowding around the Weasley twins, who had hoisted Ginny onto their shoulders. There was going to be a celebration tonight, Harry could tell.


	51. Padfoot and Moony in Hogsmeade

The celebrations lasted all night, everyone in awe of Ginny's skill.

'Where have you been hiding that?' said Fred as the Gryffindors finally began returning to their dormitories.

'Watch out Harry,' said Geroge. 'You'll be off the team next year!'

Harry laughed, glad that for once the attention was not on him. He, Hermione and Neville had been sitting on the edge of the party, cheering Ginny on with everyone else. Ron had spent most of the party pointing out that she had beaten Harry to the Snitch, as if Krum had been nowhere near.

At one o'clock McGonagall returned to the Common Room and ordered anyone left partying to go to bed.

'What an amazing sister you've got,' Dean said as the Fourth Year boys entered their dormitory.

'Yeah, the fact that she beat Krum!' said Seamus. 'Incredible!'

'Yeah, if she'd be amazing on the Quidditch team,' said Ron. 'Shame we can't get rid of Harry.' Suddenly the room went tense. Where Fred's dig had been in jest, everyone could hear the malice in Ron's voice.

'Well,' said Harry, 'I can always talk to you about how to live in Ginny's shadow.'

Ron looked at Harry for a moment, fists clenched as if he was about to hit him. Instead he threw himself into his four poster and drew the curtains around him. Harry immediately regretted what he'd said. But there was nothing he could do other than go to bed himself.

As he lay there in the dark he could here Neville, Dean and Seamus whispering amongst themselves.

*

Talk of Ginny's victory continued over the couple of days, the attention being taken away from him was the only bright spot a horizon that has never looked darker. The shock of finding himself school champion had worn off slightly now too, and the fear of what was facing him was starting to sink in. The first task was drawing steadily nearer; he felt as though it was crouching ahead of him like some horrific monster barring his path. He had never suffered nerves like these; they were way beyond anything he had left before a Quidditch match, not even, his last one against Slytherin, which had decided who would win the Quidditch Cup. Harry was finding it hard to think about the future at all, he felt as if his whole life had been leading up to, and would finish with the first task ...

Suddenly though, life became even worse for Harry within the confines of the castle, for Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it has turned on to be not so much a report on the Tournament, as a highly coloured life story of Harry. Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Harry; the article (continuing on pages two, six and seven) had been all about Harry, the names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (misspelled had been squashed into the last line of the article), and Cedric hadnt been mentioned at all.

Ten days after the article's appearance Harry still got a sick, burning feeling of shame in his stomach every time he thought about it. Rita Skeeter had reported him saying an awful lot of things that he couldn't remember ever saying in his life, let alone in that broom cupboard.

_I suppose I get my strength from my parents, I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now ... yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it ... I know nothing will hurt me during the Tournament, because they're watching over me ...'_

But Rita Skeeter had gone even further than transforming his 'er's into long, sickly sentences; she had interviewed other people about him, too.

_Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school._

From the moment the article appeared, Harry had to endure people - Slytherins, mainly - quoting it at him as he passed them, and making sneering comments.

'Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying Transfiguration?'

'Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Potter?

'Hey - Harry!'

'Yeah, that's right,' Harry found himself shouting, as he wheeled around in the corridor having had just about enough. 'I've just been crying my eyes out over my dead mum, and l'm just off to do a bit more ...'

'No - it was just - you dropped your quill.'

It was Cho. Harry felt the colour rising in his face 

'Oh-right-sorry,' he muttered, taking the quill back. 

'Er ... good luck for Tuesday,' she said. I really hope you do well.' 

Which left Harry feeling extremely stupid. 

Hermione had come in for her fair share of unpleasantness, too, but she hadn't yet started yelling at innocent bystanders; in fact, Harry was full of admiration for the way she was handling the situation.

'Stunningly pretty? Her?' Pansy Parkinson had shrieked, the first time she had come face to face with Hermione after Rita's article had appeared. 'What was she judging against - a chipmunk?'

'Ignore it,' Hermione said in a dignified voice, holding her head in the air and stalking past the sniggering Slytherin girls as though she couldn't hear them. 'Just ignore it, Harry.'

But Harry couldn't ignore it. Ron hadn't spoken to him at all since their fight after the Seeker completion, But that had been just before Rita's article had appeared, which seemed to have confirmed Ron's belief that Harry was really enjoying all the attention.

Hermione was furious with the pair of them; she went from one to the other, trying to force them to talk to each other; Neville was a little more tactful about it, though no more successful. Harry was adamant; he would talk to Ron again only if Ron admitted that Harry hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, and apologised for calling him a liar.

'I didn't start this,' Harry said stubbornly. 'It's his problem.'

'You miss him!' Hermione said impatiently. 'And I know he misses you -'

'Miss him?' said Harry. "I don't miss him ...'

But this was a downright lie. Harry liked Hermione and Neville very much but it just wasn't the same without Ron. There was less laughter, and a lot more hanging around in the library. Harry was still struggling to turn his salamander into a pencil case, and Hermione insisted learning the theory would help. They consequently spent of time poring over books during their lunchtimes, Viktor Krum was in the library an awful lot, too, and Harry wondered what he was up to. Was he studying, or was he looking for things to help him through the first task? Hermione often complained about Krum being there - not that he ever bothered them, but because groups of giggling girls often turned up to spy on him from behind bookshelves, and Hermione found the noise distracting. And wherever Krum was Draco was sure to be found skulking nearby. After there words at the competition Harry really wasn't sure what he could say to him.

'He's not even good-looking!' Hermione muttered angrily one afternoon when the girls were giggling particularly loudly. 'They only like him because he's famous. They wouldn't look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky Faint thing -'

'Wronski Feint,' said Harry, through gritted teeth. 

Quite apart from liking to get Quidditch terms correct, it caused him another pang to imagine Ron's expression if he could have heard Hermione talking about Wonky Faints.

*

It is a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up. The days until the first task seemed to slip by as though someone had fixed the clocks to work at double speed. Harry's feeling of barely controlled panic was with him wherever he went, as ever present as the snide comments about the Daily Prophet article. 

On the Saturday before the first task, all students in the third year and above were permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade, and Harry had something to look forward to. Sirius and Remus were making their way up to see him.

That morning he and Hermione set off for Hogsmeade and met Remus and Lupin at Honeydukes.

'Harry!' said Sirius smiling and pulling him in for a hug. 'Hi, Hermione,' he said when he finally let Harry go.

'Hello, Sirius,' Hermione said, beaming as she saw his S.P.E.W. badge on his lapel.

'I hope my godson's been treating you well,' Sirius said. 'I hear you two are quite the power couple. Hey, could I get an autograph by the way?' He pulled a copy of Rita's article out of his cloak pocket and a quill.

'Stop teasing them, Padfoot,' said Remus, as he finished his chocolate purchase and came over to say hello.

'As if I'd believe any rubbish that that woman writes,' said Sirius tearing up the article and returning his quill to his pocket. 'Do you know that when she covered my retrial she said that Reg was more attractive than me? Can you believe it? Anyway, from what Reg says it's Ginny who's autograph I need. Apparently she decimated any credibility you and a certain International Quidditch star may have had on the pitch.'

'Yeah, she flew nicely,' said Harry, 'picked her moment well.'

As they left Honeydukes they said their good-byes to Hermione, who was meeting Ron and Neville in the Three Broomsticks, and made their way through the streets of Hogsmeade.

'Remus and I have been thinking a lot about who might have put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry,' Sirius said seriously as they reached the Shrieking Shack.

'And this all speculation, Harry,' said Remus. 'You need to understand that.

'Yes, but also not unlikely. I think Karkaroff might have done it,' said Sirius. 

'Karkaroff?' said Harry

'Yes Harry,' said Sirius. 'He was a Death Eater. Like those we saw at the World Cup. 

'He's - what?'

'He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year - to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place.'

'Karkaroff got released?' Harry said slowly - his brain seemed to be struggling to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. 'Why did they release him?'

'He made a deal with the Ministry of Magic,' said Remus. 'You have to understand a lot of Death Eaters said they'd seen the errors of their ways, just as Karkaroff did. 

'He named names in return for his freedom,' said Sirius bitterly. 'He put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place ... he's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So keep your guard up around Krum as well. 

'If Karkaroff did put my name in the Goblet he's a really good actor. He seemed really annoyed about it. He wanted to stop me competing.'

'We know hes a good actor,' said Sirius, 'because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he?'

'Out of all the people at Hogwarts he is the most likely, Harry,' said Remus. 'I have raised my concern with Dumbledore who assures me that everything is under control.'

'I'm concerned that your dream is maybe a little more than that, Harry,' said Sirius. 'I think you might have seen something that happened. Bertha Jorkins was visiting Albania when she went missing. That's where Voldemort was last rumoured to be. She would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?'

'Yeah, but it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?' said Harry. 

'Listen, we knew Bertha Jorkins,' said Sirius grimly. 'She was at Hogwarts when we were there, a few years above us. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a great combination, Harry l'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap.'

'Voldemort could have found out about the Tournament?' said Harry, 'Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?'

'Durmstrang would have been involved well before Bertha went missing,' said Remus. 'But we can't rule out the fact the Voldemort might have used this to his advantage.

'Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that Goblet did it or a reason, and I can't help thinking the Tournament would be a very good way to attack you, and make it look like an accident.'

'Looks like a really good plan from where I'm standing,' said Harry bleakly. 

'We just want you to stay on your toes, Harry,' said Remus.

'Anyway,' said Sirius in a conspiratorial voice, 'we have an advantage. I heard a rumour, from a very reliable source, that the first task is dragons.'

'Dragons?' said Harry in disbelief. 'How do I fight a dragon?'

'The weakest part of a dragon is their eyes,' said Sirius. 'A simply Conjunctivitis Curse. You can practise on me. Just aim at my eyes and say Conjunktiva!'

Harry did as told and instantly Sirius's eyes turned red and started to swell.

'Perfect!' he shouted as he began itching at his eyes.

'Well done, Harry,' said Remus, handing Sirius a small bottle from which he took a couple of drops into his inflamed eyes. 'Just use that on the dragon and you'll have no problem getting past the task.'

They made their way back to the Three Broomsticks and enjoyed a warning Butterbeer together before Harry had to return back to Hogwarts, feeling a lot better about the upcoming task than he had that morning.


	52. The First Task

The next morning Harry, Hermione and Neville went down for breakfast and as Harry was finishing off his fried eggs Hagrid came up to them at the table.

'How's your house-elf thingy goin' then Hermione?' he said loudly as he bent down, handing Harry a piece of parchment

'Well at the moment I have ten members but I'm hoping -'

'Tha's good ter hear.' Hagrid interuppted. 'Now I best be goin', I've got lessons to plan now.' He walked off and out of the Great Hall, whistling.

'Why ask a question if you don't want the answer?' Hermione said.

'And what lessons is he planning?' said Neville. 'We're just feeding and walking the Skrewts.'

Harry read the parchment Hagrid has pressed into his hand.

_Meet me at two o'clock at my hut. Bring the Cloak._

'I think he wants to tell me something,' Harry said, passing Hermione the parchment who read Hagrid's messy scrawl before handing it to Neville to read too.

'I bet he's going to tell you about the dragons!' said Hermione. 'But that's cheating! It's bad enough that Sirius told you, but Hagrid's a teacher, he should know better!'

At two o'clock Harry made his way down to Hagrid's house under his Invisibility Cloak. Harry felt wonderfully free under the Cloak; he watched other students walking past him as he made his way around the school; for once no one staring, pointing or making horrible remarks, and nobody was quoting that stupid article.

He got to Hagrid's and knocked on the door. Hagrid opened the door and looked around.

'It's me,' Harry said.

Hagrid stepped aside to let Harry in before closing the door. Harry took his Cloak off.

'Thanks fer comin' Harry,' said Hagrid, peeking out of his curtains as if he was being watched. 'I wanted to show yer somethin'.'

'Is it the dragons?' said Harry. Hagrid turned in surprise and dropped the plate of biscuits he was holding.

'How'd you know about the dragons?' he said sweeping up his mess.

'Sirius told me yesterday.'

'Righ' ... I see ... well ...'

'It's probably best I didn't find out from you though,' said Harry. 'You might get in trouble for helping me.'

'Nah, said Hagrid, now plating up some more biscuits. 'Cheatin's all par' o' the fun. Dumbledore might not ge' involved, bu' yeh can be sure Olympe and Karkaroff will've told their champions by now.'

He placed the plate of biscuits on the table and poured them each a tea. Harry helped himself to a custard cream.

'So, what d'yeh reckon? How're yeh gonna get past a dragon, eh?' Hagrid said, settling down at the table himself and choosing a digestive from the plate.

'Well, Sirius taught me the conjunctivitis curse yesterday,' said Harry.

'Good idea,' Hagrid said approvingly. 'The eyes are a dragon's weak spot. D'yeh want to see them to prepare yehself?'

'I don't think so,' said Harry honestly. 'I'll probably have nightmares about them if I see them. At the moment thinking about facing Norbert is bad enough.'

After the tea Harry got back under his Cloak and made his way back to the castle, thinking about what Hagrid had said. If he was right and Karkaroff and Maxime had told Krum and Fleur then the only champion who didn't know about the dragons was Cedric. As he got to his dormitory and uncloaked Harry resolved to tell him as soon as he could.

Which was easier said than done Harry soon found out. Wherever Cedric went he was followed by fans wanting his autograph or to wish him luck for Tuesday. His opportunity finally came as he and Hermione got up from the breakfast table the next morning and he saw Cedric Diggory leaving the Hufflepuff table at the same time.

'Hermione, I'll see you in the greenhouses,' Harry said as he watched Cedric leaving the Hall. 'Go on, I'll catch you up.'

'Harry, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring -'

'I'll catch you up, OK?'

By the time Harry reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was with a load of sixth-year friends. Harry didn't want to talk to Cedric in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Rita Skeeter's article at him every time he went near them. He followed Cedric at a distance, and saw that he was heading towards the Charms corridor. This gave Harry an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, he pulled out his wand, and took careful aim. 

'Diffindo!'

Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed.

'Don't bother,' said Cedric in an exasperated voice, as his friends bent down to help him, 'tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on ...'

This was exactly what Harry had been hoping for. He slipped his wand back into his robes, waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into their classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but himself and Cedric.

'Hi,' said Cedric, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. 'My bag just split ... brand new and all ...'

'Cedric,' said Harry, 'the first task is dragons.'

'What?' said Cedric, looking up.

'Dragons,' said Harry, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had got to. 'They've got four, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them.'

'What?' said Cedric, looking up.

Cedric stared at him. Harry saw some of the panic he'd been feeling since Saturday flickering in Cedric's grey eyes.

'Are you sure?' Cedric said, in a hushed voice,

'Dead sure,' said Harry

'But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know.'.

'Never mind,' said Harry quickly, 'but I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now too.'

Cedric straightened up, his arms full of inky quills, parchment and books, his ripped bag dangling off one shoulder. He stared at Harry, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.

'Why are you telling me?' he asked. 

Harry looked at him in disbelief.

'It's just fair, isn't it?' he said to Cedric. 'We all know now. We're on an even footing, aren't we?'

Cedric was still looking at him slightly suspiciously.

'All right,' he said finally, 'thanks.'

And then he turned and made his way to Charms. Harry raced down the stairs and out to Greenhouse three and have a quick apology to Professor Sprout before joining Hermione who had just begun to prune their Flutterby Bush.

*

Tuesday morning the panic fully set in as Harry prepared himself to come face to face with a fully grown dragon. He was starting to wish he had gone with Hagrid to see them. 

The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure - though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there.

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing 'We'll have a box of tissues ready, Potter' as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he might not just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight. 

Time was behaving in a more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment he seemed to be sitting down in his first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch ... and then (where had the morning gone? The last of the dragon-free hours?) Barry Crouch was hurrying over to him in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.

'Mr Potter,' he said upon reaching the Gryffindor table, 'please follow me. It's time for the champions to get ready for the First Task.'

'OK,' said Harry, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.

'Good luck, Harry,' Neville said. 

'You'll be fine!' said Hermione.

'Yeah,' said Harry, in a voice that was most unlike his own.

He left the Great Hall with Mr Crouch. As they walked down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

'I heard about Black's competition the other day,' he said stiffly. 'You flew well I hear.'

'I didn't win though,' said Harry.

'No, but neither did Mr Krum or Mr Diggory. The point is you're a damn fine flier. I like that Black is getting into the spirit of this competition, helping to bring students from the three schools together. He's grown a lot since I first knew him. He's much more inclusive.'

This was the longest conversation Harry had had with Mr Crouch. It was only a slight distraction from the what the was about to face, but Harry welcomed it. Mr Crouch seemed warmer than he had the last few times they had met.

'I hear you're a dab hand at summoning spells too,' Mr Crouch said casually. 'It's important to know your strengths when participating in this competition, Mr Potter.'

They had reached the edge of the Forest where a tent had been erected. Crouch led the way inside.

Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry entered, he gave him a small smile, which Harry returned, feeling the muscles in his face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.

'Barty! Harry! Good-oh!' said Bagman happily, looking around at them. 'Come in, come in, make yourself at home, Harry!' Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.

'Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!' said Bagman brightly. 'You don't mind if I do this one do you, Barry?'

'Not at all, Ludovic,' said Mr Crouch somewhat tensely. 'I'll go and make sure the other judges are all up to speed.'

'Jolly good!' said Bagman as Crouch left the tent again. 'Right then, when the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag -' he held up a small sack of purple silk, and shook it at them - 'from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too ... ah, yes ... your task is to collect the golden egg!'

Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths, that was cenainly how Harry felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this ... 

And in no time at all hundreds upon hundreds of pairs feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking ... Harry felt as separate from the crowd as if they were a different species. And then - it felt about second later to Harry Bagman was opening the neck of purple silk sack.

'Ladies first,' he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour. She put a shaking hand inside the bag, and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. It had the number 'two' around its neck. And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that Hagrid had been right; Madame Maxime had told her what was coming

The same held true for Krum. He pulled out a scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number 'three' around its neck. He didn't even blink, just stared at the ground.

Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came a bluish grey Swedish Short-Snout, the number 'one' tied around its neck. Harry finally put his hand into the silk bag, and pulled out a Hungarian Horntail, and the number four'. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

'Well, there you are!' said Bagman. 'You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating Mr Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now ... Harry ... could I have a quick word? Outside?'

'Er ... yes,' said Harry blankly, and he got up and went out of the tent with Bagman, who walked him a short way away, into the trees, and then turned to him with a fatherly expression on his face.

'Feeling alright, Harry? Anything I can get you?'

'What,' said Harry. 'I - no, nothing.'

'Got a plan?' said Bagman, lowering his voice conspiratorially. 'Because I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like them, you know I mean,' Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, 'you're the underdog here, Harry. any-thing I can do to help ...'

'No,' said Harry, so quickly he knew he had sounded rude, 'I've decided what I'm going to do, thanks.'

'Nobody would know, Harry,' said Bagman, winking at him. 

'No I'm fine,' said Harry, wondering why he kept telling people this, and wondering whether he had ever been less fine. 'I've got a plan worked out, I -'

A whistle had blown somewhere. 

'Good Lord, I've got to run!' said Bagman in alarm, and he hurried off. Harry walked back to the tent, and saw Cedric emerging from it, greener than ever. Harry tried to wish him luck as he walked past, but all that came out of his mouth was a sort of horse grunt.

Harry went back inside to Fleur and Krum. Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Cedric had entered the enclosure, and was now face to face with the living counterpart of his model ... It was worse than Harry could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed ... yelled... gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Cedric did whatever he was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. 

Harry looked at the model of his Hungarian Horntail, and immediately wished he hadn't. The thought of facing the full sized version in just a short time made him wish he had skipped lunch. 

Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Cedric's steps, round and round the tent. And Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse ... horrible pictures formed in Harry's mind, as he heard: 'Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow' ... 'He's taking risks, this onel. Clever move - pity it didn't work.' And then, after about fifteen minutes, Harry heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Cedric had got pa his dragon, and seized the golden egg. 

'Very good indeed!' Bagman was shouting 'And now the marks from the judges!'

But he didn't shout out the marks; Harry supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

'One down, three to go!' Bagman yelled, as the whistle blew again. 'Miss Delacour, if you please!'

Fleur was trembling from head to foot; Harry felt more warmly towards her than he had done so far, as she left the tent with her head held high, and her hand clutching her wand. He and Krum were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.

The same process started again ... 'Oh, I'm not sure that was wise,' they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. 'Oh ... nearly! Careful now ... good Lord, I thought she'd had it then!'

Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more ... Fleur must have been successful, too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown ... more clapping ... then, for the third time, the whistle.

'And here comes Mr Krum! cried Bagman, and Krum slouched out, leaving Harry quite alone.

He felt much more aware of his body than usual; very aware of the way his heart was pumping fast, and his fingers tingling with fear ... yet at the same time, he seemed to be outside him self, seeing the walls of the tent, and hearing the crowd, as though from far away ...

'Very daring!' Bagman was yelling, and Harry heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. 'That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!'

Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass, Krum had finished - it would be Harry's turn at any moment.

He stood up, noticing dimly that his legs seemed to be made of marshmallow. He waited. And then he heard the whistle blow. He walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside him. And now he was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.

He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly coloured dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands which had been mag icked there since held last stood on this spot. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Harry didn't know or care. It was time to do what he had to do ... to focus his mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was his only chance ... 

He raised his wand.

'Conjunktiva!' he shouted. Instantly the dragon's eyes began to swell and she shrieked in pain.

Well that worked, Harry thought, but now what?

 _Play to your strengths,_ he remembered Crouch saying. His strengths. Well he couldn't fly, he didn't have his Firebolt with him. What other strengths did he have?

The crowd was making even more noise ... Bagman was shouting something ... but Harry's ears were not working properly any more ... listening wasn't important as the dragon blew fire at where Harry had been stood moments before.

 _I hear you're a dab hand at summoning spells too,_ came Crouch's voice again. Of course, a summoning spell. Harry could see the Hungarian Horntail moving it's head around, sniffing the air. Harry was reminded of when he had faced the Basilisk in his second year. Fawkes, Dumbledore's Phoenix, had blinded the giant snake and Harry had to be careful to not make noise to give away his position. He moved slowly around the enclosure so he was as far from the dragon as he could get, which wasn't easy when she had made her way to the centre of the enclosure, though the roar of the crowd did help in confusing the dragon.

Harry pulled out his wand. And whispered 'Accio golden egg,' but nothing happened.

'It looks as though Harry's attempting a non-verbal spell,' Harry heard Bagman saying. 'That's incredibly advanced magic, but this is the boy who I hear performed a corporeal Patronus last year, so if anyone can do it it's, Harry.'

Unfortunately for Harry Bagman was sat behind him and so the dragon turned and made it's way straight across the enclosure. Harry jumped out of the way just as the talons made their mark in the ground directly where Harry had been stood.

The tail whipped around narrowly missing Harry chest. He noticed that the eggs were now unguarded - if he ran for it then he could grab the golden egg without having to worry about the dragon at all.

As he started to run though, Harry noticed the Hungarian Horntail making her way back to protect her eggs. He instantly turned back to the other side of the enclosure. He was pretty much where he started, except that the dragon was blind and angry. Harry knew that the only way he would succeed was to try his summoning spell again, this time though he had to be more vocal.

'Accio Golden Egg!' he shouted. Instantly the dragon blew another stream of fire and, as Harry jumped out of its way, singed his cloak. Harry dropped to floor and rolled to put the flames out, sitting up just in time to brace himself to catch the hurtling egg.

As he felt it bruise his ribs, he became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, for the first time, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup Look 

'Look at that!' Bagman was yelling. 'Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!'

Harry saw the dragon-keepers rushing past him to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall and Hagrid were hurrying to meet him, both wearing smiles of relief. His heart was lighter than it had been in weeks ... he had got through the first task, he had survived ...

'That was excellent, Potter!' cried Professor McGonagall - which from her was extravagant praise. 'Were you burnt be the fire?'

'No,' said Harry, 'just my cloak. The egg hurt my ribs though when I caught it. I didn't realise it would be so heavy!'

'You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score over there, then, she's had to mop up Diggory already.'

'Yeh did it, Harry!' said Hagrid hoarsely. 'Yeh did t agains' the Horntail an' all, Charlie Weasley reckons that was the worst.'

'Thanks, Hagrid,' said Harry loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had tried to show Harry the dragons beforehand.

'Right then, Potter, the first-aid tent, please ...' said Professor McGonagall. Harry walked out of the enclosure, still panting, and saw Madam Pomfrey standing at the mouth of a second tent, looking worried. 

'Dragons!' she said, in a disgusted tone, pulling Harry inside. The tent was divided into cubicles; he could make out Cedric's shadow through the canvas, but Cedric didn't seem to be badly injured; he was sitting up, at least. Madam Pomfrey examined Harry's shoulder, talking furiously all the while.

'Last year Dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? Where did it get you?'

'It didn't,' wheezed Harry. 'I think I might've broken a rib when I caught the egg though.'

'Well, that's an easy fix,' she said, lifting his shirt to look at the damage. She took out an ointment and rubbed it over Harry's chest, muttering an incantation. Harry tensed as he felt it's chill against his skin. It soon warned and Harry felt as though his torso was suddenly on fire. He could feel the magic working on his ribs.

'Now just sit quietly for a minute - sit! And then you can go get your score.'

She bustled out of the tent and he heard her go next door and say, 'How does it feel now, Diggory?'

Harry didn't want to sit still; he was still too full of adrenaline. He got to his feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but before he'd reached the mouth of the tent, three people had come darting inside - Hermione and Neville, followed closely by Ron.

'Harry, you were brilliant!' Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutch it in fear. 

'Yeah, incredible work!' said Neville.

But Harry was looking at Ron, who was very white, and staring at Harry as though he was a ghost.

'Harry,' he said, very seriously, 'whoever put your name in that Goblet - I - I reckon they're trying to do you in!'

It was as though the last few weeks had never happened - as though Harry was meeting Ron for the first time, right after he'd been made champion.

'Caught on, have you?' said Harry coldly. Took you long enough.'

Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Neville had taken a step backwards. Ron opened his mouth uncertainty. Harry knew Ron was about to apologise and, suddenly, he found he didn't need to hear it. 

'It's OK,' he said, before Ron could get the words out. 'Forget it.'

'No,' said Ron, 'I shouldn't've -'

'Forget it,' Harry said. 'And I'm sorry too, about what I said.' 

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back. Hermione burst into tears.

'There's nothing to cry about!' Harry told her, bewildered. 'You two are so stupid!' she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug, and dashed away, now positively howling.

'Barking,' said Ron, shaking his head. 'Harry, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores ...'

Picking up the golden egg and feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago, Harry ducked out of the tent, Ron and Neville by his side. 

'You were the best, you know, no competition,' Ron was saying. 'Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground turned it into a dog ... he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burnt as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the labrador, he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance well, that kind of worked, too, it went all sleepy, but then - snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire - mind you, she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum was probably the best after you. He used the same spell as you. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs - they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them.'

Ron drew breath as they reached the edge of the enclosure.

'No one was anywhere near as quick as you though,' said Neville in awe. 

Now that the Horntail had been taken away, Harry could see where the five judges were sitting - right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold. 

'It's marks out of ten from each one,' Ron said, and Harry, squinting up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long, silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight. 

'Not bad! said Ron, as the crowd applauded. 'I suppose she took marks off because you caught fire ...'

Crouch came next. He shot a number ten into the air.

'Nice one!' Ron yelled, thumping Harry on the back.

'But I got burnt - how's that worth ten points?' Harry said in disbelief.

'Harry, don't complain!' Ron yelled excitedly.

Next to score was Dumbledore who put up a nine. The crowd were ceerng harder than ever

Ludo Bagman gave another ten. Ron and Neville were now jumping up and down beside Harry.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand, too - four. 

'What?' Ron bellowed furiously. 'Four? You lousy biased scumbag, you gave Krum ten!'

Harry didn't care, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero; Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him. He didn't tell Ron this, of course, but his heart felt lighter than air as he turned to leave the enclosure. And it wasn't just Ron ... those weren't only Gryffindors cheering in the crowd. When it had come to it, when they had seen what he was facing, most of the school had been on his side, as well as Cedric's ... he didn't care about the Slytherins, he could stand whatever they threw at him now. 

'You're in first place, Harry! You beat Krum by one point!' said Charlie Weasley - who was apparently one of the dragon keepers - hurrying to meet them as they set off back towards the school. 'Listen it's great to see you, but I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened - but that was brilliant! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes ... Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent.'

Ron said he would wait whilst Neville went to find Hermione. Harry re-entered the tent, which somehow looked quite different now, friendly and welcoming. He thought back to how he'd felt while dodging the Horntail, and compared it to the long wait before he'd walked out to face it ... there was no comparison, the wait had been immeasurably worse. Fleur, Cedric and Krum all came in together.

One side of Cedric's face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was presumably mending his burn. He grinned a Harry when he saw him. 'Good one, Harry.'

'And you,' said Harry, grinning back. 

'Well done, all of you!' said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent, and looking as pleased as though he personally had jus got past a dragon. 'Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open ... see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg – because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!'

Harry left the tent and rejoined Ron. Draco was waiting for Krum to come out. 

'Well done, Harry,' he said as they all started to walk back around the edge of the Forest.

'Thanks,' said Harry.

'Yes,' said Krum. 'Vell done. You had better luck than I did for sure.'

Krum and Draco said their goodbyes and walked back toward to the Durmstrang ship, as Mr Crouch came over to see him.

'Working to your strengths I see, Mr Potter,' he said. 'Though I have to say, I had hoped to see a bit of your famous flying out there. I thought you might have summoned your broomstick. Didn't need to though in the end, did you? Sterling work.'

He left them to continue making their way back to the castle before Harry could ask why he had gives him full marks. Ron began to explain in more detail how the champions had faced the dragon's, and as they rounded a clump of trees, a witch leapt out from behind them.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today, the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.

'Congratulations, Harry!' she said, beaming at him. 'I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now about the fairness of the scoring?'

'Yeah, you can have a word,' said Harry savagely. 'Goodbye.'

And he set off back up the lawn with Ron.


	53. The House-Elf Liberation Front

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville went up to the Owlery that evening to find Hedwig, so that Harry could send Sirius a letter, telling him that he had managed to get past his dragon unscathed. On the way, Harry filled Ron in on everything he had told him about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first hear that Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, by the time they entered the Owlery Ron was saying that they ought to have suspected it all along.

'Fits, doesn't it?' he said. 'Durmstrang are heavy on the Dark Arts, aren't they. And if Draco's there it's probably because his dad's mates with Karkaroff. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup. I'll tell you one thing, though, Harry, if it was Karkaroff who put your name in the Goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch! There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?' Ron went on, as Hedwig took flight. 'You know what? I reckon you could win this Tournament, Harry, I'm serious.'

Harry knew that Ron was only saying this to make up to his behaviour of the last few weeks, but he appreciated it all the same Hermione, however, leant against the Owlery wall folded her arms and frowned at Ron.

'Harry's got a long way to go before he finishes this Tournament,' she said seriously. 'If that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next.'

'Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?' said Ron, 'You and Professor Trelawney should get together some time.'

'She's not wrong,' said Neville. 'Traditionally each task is harder than the last. So if that's the easy one ... I dread to think what's coming up.'

'Is this what you've been dealing with Harry?' said Ron. 'These two spreading doom and gloom all over the place? What you need is a party to cheer up - Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now.'

Sure enough, when they entered the Gryffindor common room it exploded with cheers and yells again. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and Butterbeer on every surface; Lee Jordan had let off some Dr Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; and Dean Thomas, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted Harry summoning the golden egg, though a couple showed Cedric with his head on fire.

Harry helped himself to food; he had almost forgotten what it was like to feel properly hungry, and sat down with Ron and Hermione. He couldn't believe how happy he felt: he had Ron back on his side, he'd got through the first task, and he wouldn't have to face the second one for three months.

'Blimey,' this is heavy said Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg, which Harry had left on a table, and weighing it in his hands. 'Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside.'

'Hes supposed to work out the clue on his own,' Hermione said swiftly. 'It's in the Tournament rules.'

'I was supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on too,' Harry muttered, so only Hermione could hear.

'Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!' several people echoed. Lee passed Harry the egg, and Harry dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it, and prised it open.

It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and sketchy wailing, filled the room. Harry had never heard anything like it in his life.

'Shut it!' Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears. 

'What was that?' said Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. 'Sounded like a banshee maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!' 

'It was someone being tortured!' said Neville, who had gone very white, and spilled sausage rolls over the floor. 'You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus curse!'

'Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal,' said George. 'They wouldn't use the Cruciatus curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing ... maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry.'

'Want a jam tart, Hermione?' said Fred.

Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.

'It's all right,' he said. 'I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch -

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spit out.

Fred laughed. 'Just my little joke, Neville'

Hermione took a jam tart. 

Then she said, 'Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?'

'Yep,' said Fred, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. '"Anything we can get you sir, anything at all!" They're dead helpful ... get me a roast if I said I was peckish.'

'How do you get in there?' Hermione said, in an innocently casual sort of voice.

'Easy' said Fred, 'concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and -' He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. 'Why'

'Nothing,' said Hermione quickly.

'Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now are you?' said George. 'Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?'

Several people chortled. Hermione didn't answer.

'Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!' said Fred warningly. 'You'll put them off their cooking!'

Just then. Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary

'Oh - sorry, Neville!' Fred shouted, over all the laughter. 'I forgot - it was the custard creams we hexed -'

Within a minute however, Neville had moulted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in laughing.

'Canary Creams!' Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. 'George and I invented them - seven Sickles each, bargain!' 

It was nearly one in the morning when Harry Finally went up to the dormitory with Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean. Before he pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut, Harry set his tiny model of the Hungarian Horntail on the table next to his bed, where it yawned, curled up and closes its eyes. Really, Harry thought, as he pulled the hangings on his four-poster closed, Hagrid had a point ... they were all right, really, dragons ...

*

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Draughty though the castle always was in winter, Harry was glad of its fires and thick walls every time he passed the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. He thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly too, and Hagrid, he noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single malt whisky; the fumes wafting from the trough in the corner of their paddock were enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light headed. This was unhelpful, as they were still tending the horrible Skrewts, and needed their wits about them.

'I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not,' Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. 'Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip ... We'll jus settle 'em down in these boxes ...'

There were now only ten Skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill each other had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was now approaching six feet in length. Their thick grey armour, their powerful, scuttling legs, their fire blasting ends, their stings and their suckers, combined to make the Skrewts the most repulsive things Harry had ever seen. The class looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.

'We'll jus' lead 'em in here,' Hagrid said, 'an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens.' 

But the Skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling 'Don' panic, now, don' panic!' while the Skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smouldering wreckage of the boxes. 

Most of the class had fled into Hagrids cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville, however, were among those who remained outside trying to help Hagrid. Together they managed to restrain and tie up nine of the Skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts: finally, only one Screw was left.

'Don' frighten him, now!' Hagrid shouted, as Ron and Harry used their wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the Screw which was advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched quivering, over its back. 'Jus' try an' slip the rope round his sting, so he won' hurt any o' the others!'

'Yeah, we wouldn't want that!' Ron shouted angrily, as he and Harry backed into the wall of Hagrid's cabin, still holding the Skrewt off with their sparks. 

'Well, well, well. .. this does look like fun.'

Rita Skeeter was leaning on Hagrid's garden fence, looking in at the mayhem. She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar today, and her crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.

Hagrid launched himself forward on top of the Skrewt that was cornering Harry and Ron and flattened it; a blast of fire shot out of its end, withering the pumpkin plants nearby 

'Who're you?" Hagrid asked Rita Skeeter, as he slipped a loop of rope around the Skrewts sting and tightened it. 

'Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter,' Rita replied, beaming at him. Her gold teeth glinted.

'Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school any more?' said Hagrid, frowning slightly as he got off the slightly squashed Skrewt and started tugging it over to its fellows.

Rita acted as though she hadn't heard what Hagrid had said. 'What are these fascinating creatures called?' she asked, beaming still more widely. 

'Blast-Ended Skrewts,' grunted Hagrid.

'Really?' said Rita, apparently full of lively interest. 'I've nver heard of them before ... where do they come from?'

Harry noticed a dull red flush rising up out of Hagrid's wild black beard, and his heart sank. Where had Hagrid got the Skrewts from?

Hermione, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, said quickly, 'They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Harry?'

'What? Oh, yeah ... ouch ... interesting,' said Harry, as she stepped on his foot.

'Ah you're here, Harry!' said Rita Skeeter as she looked around. 'So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of Your favourite lessons?' 

'Yes,' said Harry stoutly. Hagrid beamed at him.

'Lovely,' said Rita. 'Really lovely. Been teaching long?' she added to Hagrid. 

Harry noticed her eyes travel over Neville (whose leg was swelling), Lavender (whose robes were badly singed), Seamus (who was nursing several burnt fingers), and then to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed against the glass, waiting to see if the coast was clear. 

'This is only me second year,' said Hagrid. 

'Lovely ... I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know, We could feature these - er - Bang-Ended Scoots.'

'Blast-Ended Skrewt,' Hagrid said eagerly. 'Er - yeah, why not?'

Harry had a very bad feeling about this, but there was no way of communicating it to Hagrid without Rita Skeeter seeing, so he had to stand and watch in silence as Hagrid and Rita Skeeter made arrangements to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a good long interview later that week. Then the bell rang at the castle, signalling the end of the lesson.

'Well, goodbye, Harry,' Rita Skeeter called merrily to him as he set off with Ron, Hermione and Neville. 'Until Friday night then, Hagrid!' 

'She'll twist everything he says,' Harry said under his breath.

'Just as long an he didn't import those Skrewis illegally or anything,' said Hermione desperately. They looked at other - it was exactly the sort of thing Hagrid might do.

'Hagrid's been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledore never sacked him,' said Ron consolingly. 'Worst that can happen is Hagrid has to get rid of the Skrewts. Sorry Did I say worst? I meant best.'

Harry and Hermione laughed, and feeling slightly more cheerful helped Neville hobble his way to the Hospital Wing to have his leg seen to. Madam Pomfrey said he'd have to stay in for the rest of the afternoon, so Harry, Ron and Hermione went off for lunch before the.rest of their classes.

Harry thoroughly enjoyed double Divination that afternoon they were still doing star charts and predictions, but now that he and Ron were friends once more, the whole thing seemed very funny again. Professor Trelawney, who had been so pleased with the pair of them when they had been predicting their own horrific deaths, quickly became irritated as they sniggered through her explanation of the various ways in which Pluto could disrupt everyday life.

'I would think,' she said, in a mystical whisper that did not conceal her obvious annoyance, 'that some of us' - she stared very meaningfully at Harry - 'might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal-gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and I gazed into its crystalline depths and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?'

'An ugly old bat outsize specs?' Ron muttered under his breath. Harry fought hard to keep his face straight.

'Death, my dears.'

Parvati and Lavender both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified. 

'Yes,' said Professor Trelawney, nodding impressively, 'it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower ... ever lower over the castle ...'

She stared pointedly at Harry, who yawned very widely and obviously.

'It'd be a bit more impressive if she hadn't done it about eighty times before,' Harry said, as they finally regained the air of the staircase beneath Professor Trelawney's room. 'If I'd dropped dead every time she's told me I'm going to, I'd be a medical miracle.

'You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost,' said Ron, chortling, as they passed the Bloody Baron going in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly. 'At least we didn't get homework. I hope Hermione got loads off Professor Vector, I love not working when she is ...' But Hermione wasn't at dinner, and nor was she in the the Hospital Wing when they went to see Neville.

'I assume Harry's going to die again,' Neville predicted as Madame Pomfrey discharged him.

'You've got the true makings of a seer, mate,' said Ron. 'Now tune in to the aura of Hermione and tell us where she is!'

They made their way back to Gryffindor Tower and the Fat Lady had barely begun swing forwards, when the sound of racing feet behind them announced Hermione's arrival.

'Harry!' she panted, skidding to a halt beside him (the Fat Lady stared down at her, eyebrows raised). 'Harry, you've got to come - you've got to come, the most amazing things happened - please -'

She seized Harry's arm and started to try and drag him to along the corridor.

'What's the matter?' Harry said. 'I'Il show you when we get there - oh, come on, quick -'

Harry looked around at Ron and Neville; they looked back at Harry intrigued. 

'OK,' Harry said, starting off back down the corridor with Hermione, Ron and Neville hurrying to keep up.

'Oh, don't mind me!' the Fat Lady called irritably after them. 'Don't apologise for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open, until you get back, shall I?'

'Yeah, thanks,' Ron shouted over his shoulder.

'Hermione, where are we going?' Harry asked, after she had led them down through six floors, and started down the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall.

'You'll see, you'll see in a minute!' said Hermione excitedly. 

She turned left at the bottom of the staircase, and buried towards the door through which Cedric Diggory had gone the night after the Goblet of Fire had regurgitated his and Harry's names. Harry had never been through here before. He, Ron and Neville followed Hermione down a flight of stone steps, but instead of ending up in a gloomy underground passage like the one which led to Professor Black's dungeon, they found themselves in a broad, stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food. 

'Oh, hang on' said Harry slowly, halfway down the corridor. 'Wait a minute, Hermione ...'

'What? She turned around to look at him, anticipation all over her face.

'I know what this is about,' said Harry.

He nudged Ron, and pointed to the painting just behind Hermione. It showed a gigantic silver fruit-bowl.

'Hermione!' said Ron, cottoning on. 'You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!' 

'No, no, I'm not!' she said hastily. 'And it's not spew, Ron -'

'Changed the name, have you?' said Ron, frowning at her. 'What are we now, then, the House-ELf Liberation Front? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it -'

'I'm not asking you to!' Hermione said impatiently. 'I came here just now, to talk to them all, and I found - oh, come Harry, I want to show you!' 

She seized his arm again, pulled him in front of the picture of the giant fruit-bowl, stretched out her forefinger and tickled the huge green pear. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. Hermione seized it, pulled the door open, and pushed Harry hard in the back, forcing him inside. 

He had one brief glimpse of an enormous, high-ceilinged room, large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, when something small hurtled towards him from the middle of the room, squealing, 'Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!'

Next second all the wind had been knocked out of him as the squealing elf hit him hard in the midriff, hugging him so tightly he thought his ribs would break. 

'D-Dobby?' Harry gasped. 'It is Dobby, sir, it is!' squealed the voice from some where around his navel. 'Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!'

Dobby let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at Harry, his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness. He looked almost exactly as Harry remembered him; the pencil-shaped nose, the bat-like ears, the long fingers and feet - all except the clothes, which were very different

When Dobby had worked for the Malfoys, he had always worn the same filthy old pillowcase. Now, however, he was wearing the strangest assortment of garments Harry had ever seen; he had made an even worse job of dressing himself th the wizards at the World Cup. He was wearing a tea-cosy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what looked like children's football shorts, and odd socks. One of these, Harry saw, was the black one he had removed from own foot and tricked Mr Malfoy into giving Dobby, thereby setting Dobby free. The other was covered in pink and orange stripes. 

'Dobby, what're you doing here?' Harry said in amazement.

'Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!' Dobby squealed excitedly. 'Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs sir!'

'Winky?' said Harry, 'She's here, too?'

'Yes, sir, yes!' said Dobby, and he seized Harry's hand, and pulled him off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there. Each of these tables, Harry noticed as he passed them, was positioned exactly beneath the four house tables above, in the Great Hall. At the moment, they were clear of food, dinner having finished, but he supposed that an hour ago they had been laden with dishes that were then sent up through the ceiling to their counterparts above.

At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing and curtseying as Dobby led Harry past them. They were all wearing the same uniform; a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, and tied, as Winky's had been, like a toga. Dobby stopped in front of the brick fireplace, and pointed.

'Winky, sir!' he said. 

Winky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a neat little skirt and blouse with a matching blue hat, which had holes in it for her large ears. However, while every one of Dobby's strange collection of garments was so clean and well cared for that it looked brand new, Winky was plainly not taking care of her clothes at all. There were soup stains all down her blouse and a burn in her skirt. 

'Hello, Winky,' said Harry.

Winky's lip quivered. Then she burst into tears, which spilled out of her great brown eyes and splashed down her front, just as they had done at the Quidditch World Cup. 

'Oh, dear,' said Hermione. She, Ron and Neville had followed Harry and Dobby to the end of the kitchen. 'Winky, don't cry, please don't ...' 

But Winky cried harder than ever. Dobby, on the other hand, beamed up at Harry.

'Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?' he squeaked loudly, over Winky's sobs.

'Er - yeah, OK,' said Harry.

Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind him, bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups for Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville, a milk jug and a large plate of biscuits.

'Good service!' Ron said, in an impressed voice. Hermione frowned at him, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed very low and retreated. 

'How long have you been here, Dobby?' Harry asked, as

Dobby handed round the tea.

'Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!' said Dobby happily. 'Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed -' At this, Winky howled even harder, her squashed tomato of a nose dribbling all down her front, though she made no effort to stem the flow. Dobby has travelled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work!' Dobby squeaked. 'But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!' The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listening and watching with interest, all looked away at these words, as though Dobby had said something rude embarrassing. 

Hermione, however, said, 'Good for you, Dobby!'

'Thank you, miss!' said Dobby, grinning toothily at her 'Bur most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying "That's not the point of a house-elf," they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid, Harry Potter. Dobby likes being free!'

The Hogwarts house-elves had now started edging away from Dobby, as though he was carrying something contagious Winky, however, remained where she was, though there was definite increase in the volume of her crying.

'Dobby would do well to be remembering a house-elf's place,' croaked a voice. Kreacher, the Black family house-elf had been listening to Dobby talk and was now making his way over to the fireplace.

'Kreacher,' said Harry, 'What are you doing here?'

'My duty, Mr Potter, sir,' Kreacher said, bowing low at Harry and his friends in turn. 'The young, Master Black likes Kreacher to be close at hand, and his brother prefers Kreacher out of the house.'

'You're Professor Black's house-elf?' said Hermione.

'Yes, miss,' said Kreacher. 'Kreacher has been with the Black family for many years now. They have always treated Kreacher well. Except for Master Sirius. Master Sirius has never like Kreacher.'

'But he wants you to be free,' said Hermione. 'He wants you to be treated fairly.'

'Do not confuse the two, miss. Master Sirius would like me to be free, but would still be cruel.'

'Sirius isn't cruel to you,' said Harry.

'No, Mr Potter, sir,' said Kreacher. 'Not in front of you sir. And true, he is less cruel as an adult than he was as a young boy, but Master Sirius always could sting with his words.'

'You should not be speaking of your master that way, Kreacher!' scolded Winky between sobs.

'Master Regulus has always allowed Kreacher to be open about his masters, he has nothing to hide,' Kreacher retorted, 'unlike some ...'

'Like who, Kreacher,' Harry asked.

'Kreacher couldn't say, Mr Potter, sir,' said the house-elf, looking down at the ground. 'It would not be becoming to speak I'll of others, Master Regulus says.'

'Regulus Black is a very different master to most,' said Dobby. 'If you was asking for your freedom I'm sure you could get paid just like Dobby is.'

'Kreaching is not wanting freedom! Kreacher is not wanting to be paid! Kreacher still has his honour!' Kreacher screeched, whilst Winky started sobbing at the thought of Dobby liking his freedom.

'You're paid to work here, Dobby?' Hermione asked, intrigued.

'Oh, yes, miss,' said Dobby with glee. 'Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!'

'That's not very much,' Hermione said indignantly.

'Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week and weekends off,' said Dobby, suddenly giving a like shiver, as though the prospees of so much leisure and riches was frightening. 'But Dobby beat him down, miss. Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he is not wanting, too much, miss, he likes work better.'

'And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you Winky? Hermione asked kindly.

If she had thought this would cheer Winky up, she was wildly mistaken Winky did stop crying, but when she sat up she was staring at Hermione through her massive brown eyes, her whole face sopping wet and suddenly furious. 

'Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!' she squeaked. 'Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed.'

'Ashamed?' said Hermione blankly. 'But - Winky, come on! It's Mr Crouch who should be ashamed, nor you! You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you.'

But at these words, Winky clapped her hands over the holes in her hat, flattening her ears so that she couldn't hear a word, and screeched, 'You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr Crouch! Mr Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!'

'Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry Potter,' squeaked Dobby confidentially. 'Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr Crouch any more, she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it.'

'So house-elves can't speak their minds about their masters, then?' Harry asked. 'Unless they're told they can, like Kreacher has been?'

'Oh, no, sir, no,' said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. ''Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir, we upholds the family's honour, and we never speaks ill of them - though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to - to -'

Dobby looked suddenly nervous and he beckoned Harry closer. Harry bent forwards. Dobby whispered, 'He said we is free to call him a b old codger if we likes, sir!'

Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle. 'But Dobby is not wanting to, Harry Potter,' he said normally again, and shaking his head so that his ears flapped 'Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, Sir, Dobby is proud to keep his secrets for him.'

'But you can say what you like about the Malfoys now?' Harry asked him, grinning.

A slightly fearful look came into Dobby's immense eyes, 'Dobby - Dobby could,' he said doubtfully. He squared his small shoulders. 'Dobby could tell Harry Potter that his old masters were - were - bad Dark wizards!'

Dobby stood for a moment, quivering all over, horror-struck by his own daring - then he rushed over to the nearest table and began banging his head on it, very hard, squealing, 'Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!'

Harry seized Dobby by the back of his tie and pulled him away from the table. 

'Thank you, Harry Potter, thank you,' said Dobby breathlessly, rubbing his head.

'You just need a bit of practice,' Harry said. 

'Practice!' squealed Winky furiously. 'You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!'

'The Malfoys are no longer Dobby's masters, Winky,' said Kreacher. 'Dobby is a free elf and entitled to talk however he wishes about them. But Dobby would do well to remember he is only a house-elf. Dobby is not a wizard and should stop acting like one. Doing his duty should be enough payment. Whoever heard of house-elves getting money and time off.' He shook his ancient head at the thought of such an awful idea.

'But why would you not want to be paid for the work you do?' Hermione asked.

'Because it is not the way, miss,' said Kreacher. 'You are muggle so do not understand.'

'Actually, Kreacher, I think I understand better than most,' said Hermione seriously. 'My ancestors were slaves in the Caribbean. They were told that that was just the way things were. If abolitionists hadn't fought for their right to be free then my grandparents wouldn't have been able to travel over to England in the fifties, and I probably wouldn't be here. Any enslavement is wrong, Kreacher, for any reason.'

Harry looked over at Hermione. He hasn't considered before why she would have made the freeing of house-elves such a priority before now, but everything suddenly made sense. He felt stupid not to have considered her family's history before now.

There was a hush of the kitchens now.

'Er - I think it's probably time to get back to the common room,' said Neville. 'It's getting late, and we've still got that essay to finish for Professor Binns.'

The four students said their good-byes to the house-elves, many of whom pressed in upon them, offering snacks to take a upstairs. Hermione refused, with a pained look at the way the elves kept bowing and curtseying, and though Harry and Neville took a few in appreciation, Ron filled his pockets with cream cakes and pies.

'Thanks a lot!' Harry said to the elves, who had all clustered around the door to say goodnight. 'See you, Dobby.'

'Harry Potter ... can Dobby come and see you sometimes sir?' Dobby asked tentatively. 

'Course you can,' said Harry, and Dobby beamed

'You know what?' said Ron, once he, Harry, Hermione and Neville had left the kitchens behind, and were climbing the steps into the Entrance Hall again. 'All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens - well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!'

'I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know,' said Hermione, leading the way back up the marble staircase. 'Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that, too!'

'Let's hope they don't look too closely at Winky,' said Harry

'Oh, she'll cheer up,' said Hermione, though she sounded a bit doubtful. 'Once the shock is worn off, and she's got used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouch man.'

'She seems to love him,' said Ron thickly (he had just started on a cream cake).

'Or she's been indoctrinated,' said Hermione. 'You heard Dobby - house-elves aren't supposed to talk badly about their masters.'


	54. The Unexpected Task

'Why do they have to move in packs?' Harry asked Ron and Neville, as a dozen or so girls walked past them, sniggering and staring at Harry, 'How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?'

'Lasso one?' Ron suggested. 'Got any idea who you're going to try?'

Harry didn't answer. He knew perfectly well whom he'd like to ask, but working up the nerve was something else ... Cho was a year older than he was; she was very pretty; she was a very good Quidditch player, and she was also very popular.

Ron seemed to know what was going on inside Harry's head.

'Listen, you're not going to have any trouble. You're a champion. You've just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they'll be queuing up to go with you.' In tribute to their recently repaired friendship, Ron had kept the bitterness in his voice to a bare minimum. Moreover, to he turned out to be quite right.

Harry's amazement, A curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl to whom Harry had never spoken in his life asked him to go to the ball with her the very next day. Harry was so taken aback he said 'no' before he'd even stopped to consider the matter. The girl walked off looking rather hurt, and Harry had to endure Ron's, Neville's, Dean's and Seamus's taunts about her all through History of Magic. The following day, two more girls asked him, a second-year and (to his horror) a fifth-year who looked as though she might knock him out if he refused.

'She was quite good-looking,' said Ron fairly, after he'd stopped laughing.

'She was a foot taller than me,' said Harry, still unnerved. 'Imagine what I'd look like trying to dance with her.'

Hermione's words about Krum kept coming back to him. They only like him because he's famous!' Harry doubted very much if any of the girls who had asked to be his partner so far would have wanted to go to the ball with him if he hadn't been school champion. Then he wondered if this wold bother him if Cho asked him.

On the whole, Harry had to admit that even with the embarrassing prospect of opening the ball before him, life had definitely improved since he had got through the first task. He wasn't attracting nearly as much unpleasantness in the corridors any more, which he suspected had a lot to do with Cedric - he had an idea Cedric might have told the Hufflepuffs to leave Harry alone, in gratitude for Harry's tip-off about the dragons. Theodore Nott was still taunting him at any given opportunity, but didn't dare say anything in front of teachers - and just to heighten Harry's feeling of well-being, no story about Hagrid had appeared in the Daily Prophet.

'She didn' seem very interested in magical creatures, ter tll yeh the truth,' Hagrid said, when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville asked him how his interview with Rita Skeeter had gone during the last Care of Magical Creatures lesson of term. To their very great relief, Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the Skrewts now, and they were merely sheltering behind his cabin today, sitting at a trestle table and preparing a fresh selection of food with which to tempt the Skrewts.

'She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Harry,' Hagrid continued in a low voice. 'Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys. "Never had to tell him off in four years?" she said. "Never played you up in lessons, has he?" I told her no, an' she didn' seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were horrible, Harry.'

'Course she did,' said Harry, throwing lumps of dragon liver into a large metal bowl and picking up his knife to cut some more. 'She can't keep writing about what a tragic little hero I am, it'll get boring.'

'She wants a new angle, Hagrid,' said Ron wisely, as he shelled salamander eggs. 'You were supposed to say Harry's a mad delinquent!'

'But he's not!' said Hagrid, looking genuinely shocked.

'She should've interviewed my Uncle,' said Harry grimly. 'He'd give her the goods on me any day. Mind you, he'd have something to say about her too.' 

'You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?' said Ron. 

'Though' I might look in on it, yeah,' said Hagrid gruffly. 'Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin' the dancin', won' yeh, Harry? Who're you takin?'

'No one, yet,' said Harry, feeling himself going red again. Hagrid didn't pursue the subject.

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumours about the Yule Ball were flying every where, though Harry didn't believe half of them - for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters. Exactly who or what the Weird Sisters were Harry didn't know, never having had access to a wizard's wireless, but he deduced from the wild excite ment of those who had grown up listening to the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network) that they were a very famous musical group.

Some of the teachers, like little Professor Flitwick, gave up trying to teach them much when their minds were so clearly elsewhere; he allowed them to play games in his lesson on Wednesday, and spent most of it talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm he had used during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Other teachers were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns, for example, from ploughing on through his notes on goblin rebellions - as Binns hadn't let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, they supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn't going to put him off. It was amazing how he could make even bloody and vicious goblin nots sound as boring as Percy's cauldron-bottom report. Professors McGonagall, Black and Moody kept them working until the very last second of their classes too.

'I can't believe they're still making us do homework,' Ron said bitterly that night in the Gryffindor Common Room.

'Mmm ... you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?' said Hermione, looking at him over the top of her Transfiguration notes. Ron was busy building a card castle out of his Exploding Snap pack - a much more interesting pastime than with Muggle cards, because of the chance that the whole thing would blow up at any second.

'It's Christmas, Hermione,' said Harry lazily; he was re-reading Flying with the Cannons for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire.

Hermione looked severely over at him, too. 'I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!'

'Like what?' Harry said, as he watched Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger towards a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.

'That egg!' Hermione hissed. 

'Come on, Hermione, I've got 'till February the twenty fourth,' Harry said.

He had put the golden egg upstairs in his trunk, and hadn't opened it since the celebration party after the first task. There were still two and a half months to go until he needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.

'But it might take weeks to work it out!' said Hermione 'You're going to look a real idiot if everyone else know what the next task is and you don't!'

'Leave him alone, Hermione, he's earned a bit of a break,' said Ron, and he placed the last two cards on top of the castle and the whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows. 

'Nice look, Ron ... go well with your dress robes, that will.' 

It was Fred and George. They sat down at the table with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville as Ron felt how much damage had been done.

'Ron, can we borrow Merlin?' George asked. 

'Why?' said Ron. 

'Because George wants to invite him to the ball,' said Fred sarcastically.

'Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat,' said George.

'Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?' said Ron. 

'Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you, too,' said Fred, waving his wand threateningly. 'So ... you lot got dates for the ball yet?'

'Nope,' said Ron.

'Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,' said Fred.

'Who're you going with, then?' said Ron. 

'Angelina,' said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.

'What?' said Ron, taken aback. 'You've already asked her?' 

'Good point,' said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, 'Oi! Angelina!'

Angelina, who had been chatting to Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him. 

'What?' she called back.

'Want to come to the ball with me?' Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.

'All right, then,' she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting, with a bit of a grin on her face.

'There you go,' said Fred to Harry and Ron, 'piece of cake. Now can we borrow Merlin or not?'

'Yeah, fine,' said Ron. 'I dunno why you're being so secretive though.'

'Great, thanks,' Fred said, getting to his feet.

'See you,' said George as he followed his twin to the Owlery. 

Ron stopped feeling his evebrows and looked across the smouldering wreck of his card castle at Harry and Neville.

'We should get a move on, you know. ask someone, H right. We don't want to end up with any trolls.'

Hermione let out a splatter of indignation. 'Any ... what, excuse me?'

'Well - you know,' said Ron, shrugging. 'I'd rather go alone than with - with Eloise Midgen, say.'

'Her acne's loads better lately - and she's really nice!'

'Her nose is off-centre,' said Ron.

'Oh, I see, Hermione said, bristling. So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?'

'Er - yeah, that sounds about right,' said Ron. 

'I'm going to bed.' Hermione snapped, and she swept off towards the girls staircase without another word.

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up. Harry noticed that they were the most stunning he had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armour had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone plsse them. It was quite something to hear Oh Come, All Faithful' sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch the caretaker had to extract Peeves from inside the armour, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.

And still Harry hadn't asked Cho to the ball. He and Ron were getting very nervous now, though as Harry pointed out, Ron would look much less stupid than he would without a partner, Harry was supposed to be starting the dancing with the other champions.

'I suppose there's always Moaning Myrtle,' he said gloomily, referring to the ghost who haunted the girls toilets on the second floor Harry - we've just got to grit our teeth and do it,' said Ron on Friday morning, in a tone that suggested they were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress. 'When we get back to the common room tonight, we'll both have partners - agreed?'

'Er .. OK,' said Harry.

But every time he glimpsed Cho that day during break, and then lunchtime, and once on the way to History of Magic - she was surrounded by friends. Didn't she ever go anywhere alone? Could he perhaps ambush her as she was going into a bathroom? But no - she even seemed to go there with an escort of four or five girls. Yet if he didn't do it soon, she was bound to have been asked by somebody else.

He found it hard to concentrate in Black's lesson, but luckily he was partnered with Neville who was on hand to help.

'Have you found anyone yet, Harry?' Neville asked as they added the crushed Billywig sting.

'Not yet, no,' Harry answered gloomily.

'What about Ginny?' Neville said. 'She's a third year, so won't be able to go unless someone asks her. And you two always seem to get on well.'

'Yeah, maybe,' said Harry offhandedly. He hadn't considered that Ginny might want to go. But he really wanted to take Cho. 'Might be a bit weird her being Ron's sister though. Why don't you ask her?'

'I'm already going with Hannah Abbott,' Neville said.

'But she's a Hufflepuff,' said Harry. 'I'd have thought her housemates wouldn't want her going with one of my friends when Cedric's the true champion in their eyes.'

'Well, we've always got on in Herbology so I thought, why not?'

If Neville could ask someone to the dance, then Harry definitely could. For the rest of the lesson he was busy screwing up his courage for what he was about to do. When the bell rang, he grabbed his bag, and hurried to the dungeon door.

'I'Il meet you at dinner,' he said to Ron, Hermione and Neville, and he dashed off upstairs.

He'd just have to ask Cho for a private word, that was all ... he hurried off through the packed corridors looking for her, and (rather sooner than he had expected) he found her, emerging from a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

'Er - Cho? Could I have a word with you?'

Giggling should be made illegal, Harry thought furiously, as all the girls around Cho started doing it. She didn't, though. She said, 'OK,' and followed him out of earshot of her classmates.

Harry turned to look at her and his stomach gave a weird lurch as though he had missed a step going downstairs. 'Er,' he said. He couldn't ask her. He couldn't. But he had to. Cho stood there looking puzzled, watching him. The words came out before Harry had quite got his tongue around them

'Wangoballwime?' 

'Sorry?' said Cho

'D'you - d'you want to go to the ball with me? said Harry. Why did he have to go red now? Why? 

'Oh!' said Cho, and she went red, too. 'Oh, Harry, I'm really sorry,' and she looked it, too. 'I've already said I'll go with someone else.' 

'Oh,' said Harry.

It was odd; a moment before, his insides had been writhing like snakes, but suddenly he didn't seem to have any insides at all. 

'Oh, OK,' he said, 'no problem.'

'I'm really sorry,' she said again.

'That's OK,' said Harry.

They stood there looking at each other, and then Cho said,

'Well -'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'Well, bye,' said Cho, still very red. She walked away.

Harry called after her, before he could stop himself.

'Who're you going with?'

'Oh - Cedric,' she said. 'Cedric Diggory.'

'Oh, right,' said Harry. 

His insides had come back again. It felt as though they had been filled with lead in their absence.

Completely forgetting about dinner, he walked slowly up to Gryffindor Tower, Cho's voice echoing in his ears with every step he took. 'Cedric- Cedric Diggory.' He had been starting to quite like Cedric - prepared to overlook the fact that he was handsome, and popular, and nearly everyone's favourite champion. Now he suddenly realised that Cedric was in fact a useless pretty-boy who didn't have enough brains to fill an eggcup. 

'Fairy lights,' he said dully to the Fat Lady - the password had been changed the previous day, 

'Yes, indeed, dear!' she trilled, straightening her new tinsel hairband as she swung forwards to admit him.

Entering the common room, Harry looked around, and to his surprise he saw Ron sitting ashen faced in a distant corner. Ginny was sitting with him, talking to him in what seemed to be a low, soothing voice.

'What's up, Ron?' said Harry, joining them. Ron looked up at Harry, a sort of blind horror in his face.

'Why did I do it?' he said wildly. 'I don't know what made me do it!'

'What?' said Harry.

'He - er - just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him,' said Ginny. She looked as though she was fighting back a smile, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically.

'You what?' said Harry.

'I don't know what made me do it! Ron gasped again. 'What was I playing at? There were people - all around I've gone mad - everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the Entrance Hall - she was standing there talking to Diggory and it sort of came over me - and I asked her!'

Ron moaned and put his face in his hands. He kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable. 'She looked at me I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then - I dunno - I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it.'

'She's part Veela,' said Harry. 'You were right - her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault. I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it - but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang.'

Ron looked up.

Harry was about to tell him that he'd just asked her to go with him, and that she had turned him down, until he remembered Neville's words about Ginny.

'Er - did you - er - want to go to the ball, Ginny?' Harry asked. 'With me, I mean.'

Harry, who was trying not to look at Ginny in case she turned him down too saw Ron's eyes widened.

'If it's ok with Ron, of course,' he added hastily.

'Who I go to the ball is none of Ron's business!' Ginny said incredulously. 'Yes. I'd love to go.'

'Really?' said Harry, turning to her and grinning.

'Yeah,' said Ginny smiling back, and turning slightly scarlet.

'Great,' said Ron, 'Even my sister's got a someone to go with. I'm the only one left who hasn't got anyone - well, except Neville.'

'Actually, he's going with Hannah Abbott,' said Harry.

'What?' moaned Ron, dropping his head into the table.

'How about Hermione?' asked Harry. 'I don't think she's going with anyone yet.'

Just then Hermione and Neville climbed in through the portrait hole. 

'Why weren't you two at dinner?' Hermione said, coming over to join them.

'Because Ron got turned down by Fleur,' said Ginny.

'Thanks a bunch, Ginny,' said Ron sourly.

'All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?' said Hermione loftily. 'Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you.'

But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light. 'Hermione, you're a girl ...'

'Oh, well spotted,' she said acidly.

'Well - you can come with me then.' 

'No, I can't,' snapped Hermione.

'Oh, come on,' ,he said impatiently, 'I need a partner, Neville's going with Hannah, Harry's taking Ginny.'

'I can't come with you,' said Hermione, now blushing, 'because I'm already going with someone'

'What? Who?said Ron. 

'None of your business,' said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. 'Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!'

Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again. 

'OK, OK, I know you're a girl,' he said. 'That do? Will you come now?'

'I've already told you!' Hermione said, very angrily. 'I'm going with someone else!'

And she stormed off towards the girls' dormitories again.

'She's lying,' said Ron flatly, watching her go. 

'She's not,' said Ginny quietly.

'Who is it, then?' said Ron sharply.

'I'm not telling you, it's her business,' said Ginny. 

'What about Luna, Ginny?' Harry asked, thinking about her Ravenclaw friend from the Slug Club.

'Yeah, maybe,' said Ginny, 'I'll ask her. I don't think she's going with anyone yet. I'll see if she's down at dinner still.'

'Do you want to go down and get some food too?' Harry asked Ron.

'Nah,' said Ron. 'I don't think I can face anyone at the moment. You go ahead.'

Harry and Ginny left the common room and made their way down to the Great Hall.

'Thanks,' Ginny said.

'For what?' said Harry.

'You know, for asking me to the ball.'

'Oh - right - yeah. No worries. I thought you might like to go, but as you're in third year, you couldn't go unless someone else asked you to go.'

'Oh - right ... I see.'

They walked the rest of the way in an awkward silence and Harry couldn't help but think that he might have said the wrong thing.

They found Luna at the Ravenclaw table finishing her sticky toffee pudding.

'Hey Luna,' said Ginny as they walked up to her.

'Oh hello, Ginny, hello, Harry,' Luna said. 'Your brother just asked Fleur to the Yule Ball.'

Luna said this very matter-of-factly.

'Er - yeah - about that. We were wondering if you might go with him? He doesn't want to go alone, but he's a bit useless around girls.'

Luna thought about it for a moment, and finished the last of her custard, before saying, 'Yes, OK. But let him know I'm not much of a dancer.'

'I don't think that will be much of a problem,' said Ginny. 'Thanks, luna.'

Harry and Ginny left the Ravenclaw table and sat down to dinner at the Gryffindor table. Harry was glad that both he and Ron now had partners for the Yule Ball, but now he had to make sure he didn't make a prat of himself dancing. At least Ron didn't have to worry about that.


	55. The Yule Ball

(GOF 251-252)

Hermione - who are you going to the ball with?' said Ron He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it. However, Hermione merely frowned and said, 'I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me.'

'What? I can't believe you think I'd do such a thing,' said Ron. 'I mean, unless it's Crabbe or Goyle. I wouldn't make fun of you then though, I'd have you checked in at St Mungo's'

They got back to the common room where everyone was busy letting off more holiday steam and settled at a table by the window.

'Have you looked any more at that egg yet, Harry,' Hermione said. 'You really ought to start working out what it means.'

'Hermione, he's got ages!' snapped Ron. 'Want a game of chess?' 

'Yeah, OK,' said Harry.' Then, spotting the look on Hermione's face, he said, 'Come on, how'm I supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot.' 

'Oh, I suppose not,' she sighed, and she sat down to join in the chess match. Harry and Ron were trying to teach her and Neville how to play, so she partnered with constantly exasperated Ron, and Neville with a much gentler teacher in Harry. The game culminated Neville decimating Hermione's pieces, and taking checkmate within fifteen minutes of play.

Before Ron could list every mistake Hermione had made Merlin flew in, with a parchment attached to his leg and landed at the table.

'Ah, perfect,' said Ron leaning over to his owl, 'we can find out who Fred and George have been writing to.' But as he moved to untie letter, Merlin raised his talons and hooted in warning.

'Hey!' Ron hissed, pulling his hand back. 'I'm your bloody owner!'

'Yes,' said Fred, who had just appeared at the Gryffindor table with George, 'but the letter is for us.'

George leant over the table and untied the letter which Merlin presented to him. 

'I can't believe it,' said Ron. 'You've turned my own owl against me.

Harry watched as Fred and George read their letter with ever growing smiles.

'Thanks Merlin,' said Fred as they left for their dormitory, no doubt to write a reply.

'Yeah, see you later, you lot,' said George.

*

Harry awoke very suddenly on Christmas Day. Wondering what had caused his abrupt return to consciousness, he opened his eyes, and saw something with very large, round, green eyes staring back at him in the darkness, so close they were almost nose to nose. 

'Dobby,' Harry yelled, scrambling away from the elf so fast he almost fell out of bed. 'Don't do that!'

'Dobby is sorry sir!' squeaked Dobby anxiously, jumping backwards with his long fingers over his mouth. 'Dobby is only wanting to wish Harry Potter "Merry Christmas" and bring him a present, sir! Harry Potter did say Dobby could come and sometimes, sir!'

'OK,' said Harry, still breathing rather faster than usual, while his heart rate returned to normal. 'Just - just prod me or something in future, all right, don't bend over me like that ...' Harry pulled back the hangings around his four-poster, took his glasses from his bedside table and put them on. His yell had awoken Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean. All of them were peering through the gaps in their own hangings, heavy eyed and tousle haired.

'Someone attacking you, Harry?' Seamus asked sleepily. 

'No, it's just Dobby,' Harry muttered. 'Go back to sleep.'

'Nah.. presents!' said Seamus, spotting the large pile at the foot of his bed. Ron, Neville and Dean decided that now they were awake they might as well get down to some present opening, too. Harry turned back to Dobby, who was now standing nervously next to Harry's bed, still looking worried that he had upset Harry. There was a Christmas bauble tied to the loop on top of his tea-cosy.

'Can Dobby give Harry Potter his present?' he squeaked tentatively

'Course you can,' said Harry. 'Er ... I've got something for you, too.' It was a lie; he hadn't bought anything for Dobby at all, but he quickly opened his trunk, and pulled out a particularly knobbly rolled-up pair of socks. They were his oldest and foulest, mustard yellow, and had once belonged to Uncle Vernon. The reason they were extra knobbly was that Harry had been using them to cushion his Sneakoscope for over a year now. He pulled out the Sneakoscope and handed the socks to Dobby, saying, 'Sorry, I forgot to wrap them.'

But Dobby was utterly delighted, ripping off his odd ones and pulling on Uncle Vernon's 'l has seven now, sir ... but, sir ...' he said, his eyes widening, having pulled both socks up their highest extent, so that the reached to the bottom of his shorts, 'they has made a mistake in the shop, Harry Potter, they is giving you two the same!'

'Ah, no, Harry, how come you didn't spot that!' said Ron grinning over from his own bed, which was now strewn with wapping paper. 'Tell you what, Dobby - here you go - take these two and you can mix them up properly. And here's your jumper.'

He threw Dobby a pair of violet socks he had just unwrapped and the hand-knitted sweater Mrs Weasley had sent. Dobby looked quite overwhelmed. 'Sir is very kind!' he squeaked, his eyes brimming with tears again, bowing deeply to Ron. 'Dobby knew sir must be a great wizard, for he is Harry Potter's greatest friend, but Dobby did not know that he was also as generous of spirit, as noble, as selfless -'

'They're only socks,' said Ron, who had gone slightly pink around the ears, though looking rather pleased all the same. 'Wow, Harry' - he had just opened Harry's present, a Chudley Cannon hat. 'Cool!' He jammed it onto his head, where it clashed horribly with his hair.

Dobby now handed Harry a small package, which turned out to be - socks. 

'Dobby is making them himself, sir!' the elf said happily. 'He is buying the wool out of his wages, sir!'

The left sock was bright red, and had a pattern of broomsticks upon it, the right sock was green, with a pattern of Snitches. 

'They're ... they're really ... well, thanks, Dobby,' said Harry and he pulled them on, causing Dobby's eyes to leak with happiness again.

'Dobby must go now, sir, we is already making Christmas dinner in the kitchens!' said Dobby, and he hurried out of the dormitory, waving goodbye to Ron and the others as he passed

Harry's other presents were much more satisfactory than Dobby's odd socks - with the obvious exception of the Dursleys which consisted of a single tissue, an all-time low - Harry supposed they, too, were remembering the Ton-Tongue Toffee. Hermione had given Harry a book called Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland; Ron, a bulging bag of Dungbombs; Neville, a moonstar plant which only flowers at a full moon, with golden star shaped petals; Hagrid, a vast box of sweets including all Harry's favourites - Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Droobles Best Blowing Gum and Fizzing Whizzbees. There was also, of course, Mrs Weasley's usual package, including a new jumper (green, with a picture of a dragon on it - Harry supposed Charlie had told her all about the Horntail) and a large quantity of home-made mince pies.

But his best present was from Sirius and Remus, though it didn't seem to be at first glance. Harry ripped open the wrapping and out fell a small, square mirror. It looked old; it was certainly dirty. Wondering what joke Sirius was playing Harry opened the Christmas Card that came with it.

 _Dear Harry,_ it read.

_Merry Christmas. This mirror belonged to your father when we were at Hogwarts. It's a two-way mirror and I have the other one of the pair. Just say my name and we'll be able to talk any time about anything - dreams, tasks or certain unsavoury characters! James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions, but Moony agrees this is a much nobler use._

_You had better use it before you go to the Yule Ball tonight so we can see you dressed up smartly for a change!_

_Much love, Sirius and Remus_

Harry smiled, and put the mirror away safely to use later.

Harry, Ron, and Neville - in his own Weasley jumper of deep blue - met up with Hermione in the common room, and they went down to breakfast together. They spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbages Wizarding Crackers.

They went out into the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. Hermione chose to watch Harry, Neville and the Weasleys snowball fight rather than join in, and at five o'clock said she was going back upstairs to get ready for the ball.

'What, you need three hours?' said Ron, looking at her incredulously, and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head. 'Who're you going with?' he yelled after Hermione, but she just waved, and disappeared up the stone steps into the castle.

There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast, so at seven o'clock, when it had become hard to aim properly, the others abandoned their snowball fight and trooped back to the common room. The Fat Lady was sitting in her frame with her friend Violet from downstairs, both them extremely tipsy, empty boxes of chocolate liqueurs littering the bottom of her picture.

'Lairy fights, that's the one!' she giggled when they gave the password, and she swung forwards to let them inside.

Harry, Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean changed into their dress robes up in their dormitory, all of them looking very self conscious, but none as much as Ron, who surveyed himself in the long mirror in the corner with an appalled look on his face. There was just no getting around the fact that his robes looked more like a dress than anything else. In a desperate attempt to make them look more manly, he used a Severing Charm on the ruff and cuffs. It worked fairly well; at least he was now lace free, although he hadn't done a very neat job, and the edges still looked depressingly frayed.

'I'll be down in a minute,' Harry said as the others descended to the common room. He pulled out the two-way mirror and said Sirius's name. Instantly Sirius was grinning back at him.

'Harry!' he said, sounding slightly tinny and distant. 'Merry Christmas! Let's see how handsome you look in your dress robes.'

Harry propped the mirror up and stood back giving Sirius a better view.

'Very handsome, Harry,' came Remus's voice, though Sirius's face still filled Harry's view.

'Who are you taking to the ball, then?' Sirius asked.

'Er - Ginny,' said Harry, somewhat embarrassed.

'Ginny, eh?' grinned Sirius. 'Well, I'm sure you'll treat her like a lady. Now remember, stick to pumpkin juice, no kissing and back to bed at a reasonable hour, please.'

'Sirius, stop teasing him,' said Remus. 'Enjoy yourself, Harry. This is a one in a lifetime event for you.'

'Thanks,' said Harry, wanting the ground to swallow him up. 'Er - I'd better go, Ginny's waiting for me.'

'Of course,' said Sirius, 'we wouldn't want to keep her waiting. Have fun - and don't do anything I wouldn't do!'

The mirror was reflecting Harry's face again and he put it away before heading down the stairs.

The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colours instead of the usual mass of black. Ginny was waiting for Harry at the foot of the stairs. She looked very pretty indeed, in robes of rose, with her red hair held high with silver accessories. She had emerald earrings to match Harry's robes. Harry was relieved to see that she wasn't giggling

'You look lovely,' he said awkwardly. 

'Thanks,' she said. 'You're not too bad yourself.'

'Can you two stop flirting in front of me?' said Ron, looking around. 'Where's Hermione?' 

'She's already gone down. I told Luna we'd meet her outside the Ravenclaw common room.'

'OK,' said Harry. 'Where is the Ravenclaw common room?'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Just follow me,' she said, leading the way out of the portrait hole.

They walked across to the other side of the castle, Ginny talking excitedly about the ball as they went, Ron pulling awkwardly on his sleeves. Eventually they went up a spiral staircase. They climbed in tight, dizzying circles; Harry had never been up here before. At last they reached a door with a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Luna was stood outside, in robes of silver and what appeared to be radishes hanging from her ears. She wasn't alone. Cedric and Cho were there too.

'Oh. Hello, Harry,' said Cho.

Harry felt himself blushing. 'Hi, Cho,' he managed to say. 'Hi, Cedric.'

'Hi, Harry,' said Cedric beaming. 'Hi, Ron, hi, Ginny.'

''Lo,' said Ron, not making eye contact with anyone.

'Hi, Cedric,' said Ginny. 'Hello, Luna.'

'Hello, Ginny,' said Luna with an airy look about her face. 'Hello, Ronald.'

Ron looked up noticed Luna properly for the first time. His face contorted at the sight of her earrings.

Ginny elbowed him in the ribs.

'Oh - er - yeah ... hi.'

They all stood looking at one another for a moment awkwardly.

'Well, shall we head down, then?' said Ginny breaking the silence. 'The Champions have to open the ball after all. I'm not sure what McGonagall would say if the Hogwarts champions were the ones holding everyone up.'

'Yeah,' said Cedric, 'that's a good point.

When they reached the foot of the spiral staircase once more, Cedric pulled Harry aside from the others.

'Listen,' Cedric said lowering his voice as they pulled back from the other four. 'I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?'

'Yah, said Harry.

'Well ... take a bath, OK?'

'What?'

'Take a bath, and -er - take the egg with you, and - er - just mull things over in the hot water. It'll help you think ... trust me.'

Harry stared at him.

'Tell you what,' Cedric said, 'use the Prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's Pine-fresh.' -

He grinned at Harry.

'Er, right, thanks, Cedric.'

That had been extremely strange advice. Why would a bath help him to work out what the wailing egg meant? Was Cedric pulling his leg? Was he trying to make Harry look a fool, so Cho would like Cedric even more by comparison? 

Harry didn't have long to mull this new information over though as they reached the Entrance Hall where a large group of students around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Other people who were meeting partners from different houses were edging through the crowd, trying to find each other. Harry saw Neville struggling through the crowd to make his way over to Hannah Abbott.

'Oh, no ...' said Ron, bending his knees slightly to hide behind Harry, as Fleur Delacour passed, looking stunning in robes of silver grey satin, and accompanied by the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies. When they had disappeared, Ron stood straight again and stared over the heads of the crowd.

'Where is Hermione?' he said again.

A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Nott was in front; he was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a green and silver trim. Pansy Parkinson was clutching Nott's arm, in very frilly robes of pale pink. Crabbe and Goyle were both wearing green; they resembled moss-coloured boulders, and neither of them, Harry was pleased to see, had managed to find a partner.

The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by a pretty girl in blue robes Harry didn't know. Malfoy was close by also in black velvet robes, though his had a high collar, and he looked extremely uncomfortable. On his arm was a blonde Durmstrang girl, who seemed to be a foot taller than Draco, making them look like a very odd couple indeed. Over their heads he saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights - meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rose bushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer.

Then Professor McGonagall's voice called, 'Champions over here, please!'

'See you in a minute' Harry said to Ron and Luna. As he, Ginny, Cedric and Cho walked forwards the chattering crowd parted to let them through. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan, and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. 

Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Harry looked away Cedric and Cho so he wouldn't have to talk to them. His eyes fell instead on the girl next to Krum. His jaw dropped.

It was Hermione. But she didn't look like Hermione at all. She had done some thing with her hair, it was no longer bushy, but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow - or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling - rather nervously, it was true - but smiling nonetheless. 

'Hi, Harry!' she said. "Hi, Ginny!'

Ginny beamed at Hermione but as the doors to the Great Hall opened others looked at her in unflattering disbelief. Krum's fan club from the library stalked past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing. Pansy Parkinson gaped at her as she walked by with Nott, and even he didn't seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her. 

Ron, however, walked right past Hermione without looking at her. Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs, and follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up towards a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The house tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people. Harry concentrated on not tripping over his feet. Ginny seemed to be enjoying herself; she was beaming around at everybody, steering Harry so gently toward the top table. He caught sight of Ron and Luna as he neared the top table. Ron was watching Hermione pass with narrowed eyes. Luna was looking distractedly at the ceiling. 

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like Ron's as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. Mr Crouch was in deep brugundy robes, with a lace trim, not dissimilar to Ron's, though in a lot better condition. 

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Harry took the seat next to Mr Crouch.

'So, tell me, Mr Potter,' said Mr Crouch, 'how are you getting on with the second task?'

'Er, yeah, I've had some thoughts on it,' Harry said, as he noticed Cedric wink at him from across the table.

'Good to hear, good to hear. And who is it you've brought tonight?'

'Er, Ginny Weasley - you meet her at the Quidditch World Cup.'

'Oh, yes, of course, Percy's sister. He's a bright future ahead of him in the Ministry,' Mr Crouch said approvingly. 'He's got an eye for details, that's for sure.'

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus lying in front of each of them. Harry picked his up uncertainly, and looked around - there were no waiters. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down his own menu. then said very clearly to his plate, 'Pork chops!' And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates, too. Harry glanced up at Hermione to see how she felt about this new and more complicated method of dining - surely it meant plenty of extra work for the house-elves? - but, for once, Hermione dida seem to be thinking about S.P.E.W. She was deep in talk with Viktor Krum, and hardly seemed to notice what she was eating. Relieved, Harry realised this meant she wouldn't harangue Mr Crouch about Winky's dismissal either.

Harry had never heard Krum speak so enthusiastically than he was tonight.

'Vell, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfort able, I am thinking,' he was telling Hermione. 'Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these - though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains -'

'Now, now, Viktor!' said Karkaroff, with a laugh that didn't reach his cold eyes. 'Don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us! Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. 

'Igor, all this secrecy ... one would almost think you didn't want visitors.'

'Well, Dumbledore,' said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, 'we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and our right to protect them?'

'Oh, I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts secrets, Igor,' said Dumbledore amicably. 'Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamberpots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder.' Harry snorted into his plate of goulash. He could have sworn Dumbledore had given him a very small wink. Meanwhile Fleur Delacour was criticising the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies.

'Zis is nothing,' she said dismissively, looking, around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. 'At ze Palace of Beauxbatons we ave ice sculptures all around ze Dining Chamber at Christmas. Zey do not melt, of course. Zey are all statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymph to serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armour in ze walls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons 'e would be expelled like zat!' She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

Roger Davies was watching her talk with a very dazed look on his face, and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. Harry had the impression that Davies was too busy staring at Fleur to take in a word she was saying.

'Absolutely right,' he said quickly, slapping his own hand down on the table in imitation of Fleur. 'Like that. Yeah.'

Harry looked around the Hall. Hagrid was sitting at one of the other staff tables; he was back in his horrible hairy brown suit, and gazing up at the top table. Harry saw him give a small wave and, looking around, saw Madame Maxime return it, her opals glittering in the candlelight.

Hermione was now teaching Krum to say her name properly, he kept calling her 'Hermy-own.'

'Her-my-oh-nee,' she said, slowly and clearly.

'Herm-own-ninny.'

'Close enough,' she said, catching Harry's eye and grinning. When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, at a wave ol his wand, the tables zoomed back along the walls, leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right-hand wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it. The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly into enthusiastic applause they were all extremely hairy, and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Harry, who had been so interested in watching them that he had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realised that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the other champions and their partners were standing up.

'We're up,' said Ginny, pulling on his hand.

Harry tripped over his dress robes as he stood up. The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; Harry walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone's eye (he could see Seamus and Dean waving at him and sniggering), and next moment, Ginny had taken his hands, placed one around her waist, and was holding the other tightly in hers.

Harry looked Ginny straight in the eye and she smiled at him. For some reason he felt suddenly at ease.

Harry felt like he was actually enjoying himself as they revolved slowly on the spot (Ginny was leading). Suddenly Harry wasn't worried about Seamus and Dean's sniggering or even the fact that Cho was dancing with Cedric. The more he looked at Ginny as they made their way around the dancefloor, the more he realised how pretty she was and wondered why he hasn't noticed before. Harry was had drowned out any background, his attention was only on Ginny. He didn't even notice that many of the other students had come onto the dance floor until Neville and Hannah bumped into them.

'Oops - sorry, Harry,' said Neville as Hannah laughed. 

Brought out of Ginny's trance, Harry saw that Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. McGonagall was dancing with Mad-Eye Moody very elegantly despite his wooden leg.

The final, quavering note from the bagpipe sounded. The Weird Sisters stopped playing, and applause filled the Hall once more, before the Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster. Harry and Ginny took the lead from Fred and Angelina this time, who were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away for fear of injury.

After two more dances Hermione and Krum came over to them.

'Vould you two like a drink?' Krum asked. 'I am getting one for me and Herm-own-ninny.'

'Er, yeah that'd be great thanks,' said Harry, who hadn't realised quite how parched he was. 'D'you want a hand?'

'No, no, I vill be fine, thank you,' said Krum.

'We'll get seats over there with Ron,' Hermione told Krum as he walked over to drinks table.'You two look like your having fun,' she said when they began to make their way towards Ron and Luna.

'Yeah, it's brilliant, isn't it?' Ginny said excitedly. Harry found himself nodding along enthusiastically.

'Alright?' Harry said as he, Hermione and Ginny took a seat.

Ron didn't answer. He was glaring at Hermione.

'It's hot, isn't it?' said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. 'Viktor's just gone to get some drinks.'

'Ron gave her a withering look. Viktor?" he said. 'Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?'

Hermione looked at him in surprise. 'What's up with you?' she said.

'If you don't know,' said Ron scathingly, 'I'm not going to tell you. Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged. 

'Ron, what?

'He's from Durmstrang!' spat Ron. 'He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You - you're -' Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione's crime, 'fraternising with the enemy, that's what you're doing!'

Hermione's mouth fell open.

'Don't be so stupid!' she said after a moment. 'The enemy! Honestly - who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?'

Ron chose to ignore this. 'I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?' 

'Yes, he did,' said Hermione. 'So what?' 

'What happened - trying to get him to join spew, were you?'

'No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he - he said he'd been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!,' Hermione said this very quickly, and blushed very deeply.

'Yeah, well - that's his story,' said Ron nastily.

'And what's that supposed to mean?'

'Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with ... he's just trying to get closer to Harry - get inside information on him - or get near enough to jinx him -'

'Don't be stupid, Ron,' said Ginny. 'As if he's going to try anything in front of all these teachers!'

Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. When she spoke, her voice quivered. 'For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry, not one -'

Ron changed tack at the speed of light. 'Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cosy little library sessions -'

'I'd never help him work out that egg!' said Hermione, looking outraged. 'Never. How could you say something like that? I want Harry to win the Tournament. Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?'.

'You've got a funny way of showing it,' sneered Ron.

'This whole Tournaments supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them,' Hermione shrilly.

'No, it isn't!' shouted Ron. 'It's about winning!'

'Ron,' said Ginny, sounding dangerously like Mrs Weasley when she was about to tell someone off, 'you're causing a scene.' People were indeed starting to stare at them.

'Me causing a scene?' Ron said indignantly. 'I'm not the one dancing with the enemy.'

'Ron,' said Harry quietly, 'I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum -'

But Ron ignored Harry.

'Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are,' said Ron. 

'Ron, don't!' said Ginny. 'If you're going to be a miserable git all night, why don't you just go to bed? You didn't want to come anyway. You're not going to dance and I think Luna deserves to not have to spend the night listening to you moan just because you weren't quick enough to ask the person you actually wanted to go with and someone got there first.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' said Ron.

'If you don't know then you're thicker than I thought,' said Ginny.

Before Ron could make any kind of retort Krum returned with four Butterbeers.

'Here you go,' he said handing one each to Harry, Hermione and Ginny. 'Vhat are ve all talking about?'

'Nothing,' said Hermione firmly. Harry noticed that she seemed to be on the verge of tears. 'Let's go and get some fresh air, Viktor.'

Hermione and Krum left the table and headed for the grounds together.

'Whats her problem?' said Ron, before receiving a withering look from his sister. 

'You alright, Luna?' Ginny said.

'Oh, yes,' Luna replied casually. 'I'm just keeping my eye out for Nargles - there's a lot of mistletoe tonight.'

'Good thinking,' said Ginny, smiling at Harry. Ron meanwhile crumpled his face in confusion.

'What on earth are Nargles?' he asked.

'Little creatures who hide away from humans,' said Luna. 'Not that I can blame them.'

Harry looked across the dance floor and saw that the top table was now empty: Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout; Ludo Bagman, with Professor McGonagall; Madame Maxime and Hagrid were cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students; Mr Crouch was dancing elegantly with Professor Sinestra and Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen. When the next song ended, everybody applauded once more, and Harry sw Ludo Bagman kiss Professor McGonagall's hand and make his way back through the crowds towards them.

'Harry, Harry!' he said jovially as he got to their table. 'I hope Barty wasn't boring you at dinner!'

'No, not at all,' said Harry.

'How are you getting on with the second task?' Bagman asked, lowering his voice, his eyes darting around in case anyone was listening in. 'Need any pointers?'

'Er, no thanks, I'm doing OK,' said Harry. 'I didn't think you were supposed to be helping us?'

'Oh, no,' said Bagman, 'strictly speaking we shouldn't. But you are the youngest contestant, so I just wanted to see if I could give you a fair boost, that's all. Well, you know where to find me if you need anything!'

With that he made his way back across the dancefloor onto which he dragged Professor Trelawney.

'Hermione's right you know,' Ginny said, 'all that dancing does make you hot. Shall we take a walk around the grounds before we start up again, Harry?'

Harry looked away from Professor Trelawney's seizure-like dancing and over at Ron. He decided that he'd much rather go for a walk with Ginny than listen to Ron moaning.

'Yeah,' he said standing up and offering his arm, 'let's go.'

They edged around the dance floor and slipped out into the Entrance Hall. The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes, winding ornamental paths, and large stone statues. Harry could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. Harry could feel his heart racing as he and Ginny set off along one of the winding paths through the rose bushes, but they had gone only a short way when they heard a familiar voice.

'... this is not the time or place, Igor.'

'Regulus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!' Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. 'It's been getting clearer and clearer for months, I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it.'

'We all knew he would return sooner or later,' said Professor Black cooly. 'I can't tell you what to do, but if you ask Dumbledore for respite he will give it gladly.'

'What about the others? Lucius is already breathing down my neck because I brought his son back to Hogwarts. On your orders, I might add.'

Black and Karkaroff came around the corner. 

'Good evening Mr Potter, Miss Weasley,' Black said upon seeing the two of them. 'Getting some fresh air are we? 

Karkaroff, Harry saw, looked slightly discomposed to see them standing there. His hand went nervously to his goatee, and he began winding it around his finger again. 

'Er - yeah,' said Harry. 

'Well, don't let us stop you,' Black said standing to the side allowing them to pass. As soon as they were continuing down the path Black strode purposefully back towards the castle.

'Why d'you reckon Black told Karkaroff to bring Draco back?' Harry said slowly. 'And since when have he and Black been on first-name terms?' 

'Can't you switch off for one night?' Ginny said, stopping by one of the large stone reindeer, over which they could see the sparkling jets of a tall fountain.

'Oh, sorry,' Harry said.

Ginny smiled. 'Look,' she said pointing up at the reindeer's antlers. Hanging from them was some mistletoe.

'Oh,' said Harry. 'We'd better look out for Nargles.'

He looked back down at Ginny who was smiling a shy kind of smile. She moved in closer to him and put her arms around his neck. Harry's heart was beating faster than ever. He felt his arms find their way around her waist. The next moment she was on her tiptoes and they were kissing.

Harry wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted, it could have been five seconds, it could have been an hour, but he knew that once it was over he felt like he could have taken on a hundred Hungarian Horntails.

'Wow,' he said breathlessly. 'Er - thanks.'

Ginny giggled and said, 'Shut up,' before kissing him again.

Eventually they were brought out of their giddiness by Madame Maxime storming past them, and they made their way back to the Great Hall where they joined Hermione and Krum on the dancefloor. Neville and Hannah had not improved one bit, but Harry noticed that Draco seemed to have perfect form with his partner despite their height difference.

When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause, and started to wind their way into the Entrance Hall. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, Harry was among them.

Harry, Ginny and Hermione said goodnight to Krum before he went back to the Durmstrang ship. As they reached Ron at the foot of the marble staircase Hermione gave him a very cold look, and swept past him without speaking. Harry, Ron, Neville and Ginny followed her.

'That was great, wasn't it?' said Neville as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower. 'I feel like I could danced with Hannah for the rest of my life!'

Harry grinned at how happy his friend was.

'Yeah, it was good fun,' he said, squeezing Ginny's hand.

When they finally made it to Gryffindor Tower, The Fat Lady and her friend Vi were snoozing in the picture over the portrait hole. Harry had to yell 'Fairy lights!' before they woke up, and when he did, they were extremely irritated. 

'Night, Ginny,' said Ron, yawning and stretching before making his way up to the boys' dormitory.

'Yeah, night, Ginny,' said Neville following.

Harry and Ginny were alone again.

'Well, goodnight, then,' Harry said, standing there awkwardly.

'Yeah ... night ...'

Harry leant down and kissed her again, and they both smiled as they made their way up to their dormitories that night.


	56. Rita Skeeter's Scoop

Everybody got up late on Boxing Day, Harry was still giddy from the night before. The Gryffindor common room though was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations. Hermione's hair was bushy again; she confessed to Harry that she had used liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion on it for the ball, 'but it's way too much bother to do every day,' she said matter-of-factly, scratching a purring Crookshanks behind the ears.

Ron and Hermione seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss their argument. They were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal. Harry told Ron, Hermione and Neville about the conversation that he and Ginny had overheard between Professor Black and Karkaroff.

'I wonder if Draco knows Professor Black is the reason he's back at Hogwarts?' Hermione said.

'More importantly,' said Ron, 'why is Professor Black such good mates with Karkaroff, a known Death Eater?'

The couldn't ponder too long on these questions, because it was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat, now that Christmas was over - everybody except Harry, that is, who was starting (once again to feel slightly nervous.

The trouble was that February the twenty-fourth looked a lot closer from this side of Christmas, and he still hadn't done anything about working out the clue inside the golden egg. He therefore started taking the egg out of his trunk every time he went up to the dormitory, opening it and listening intently, hoping that this time it would make some sense. He strained to think what the sound reminded him of; he had never heard anything else like it. He closed the egg, shook it vigorously, and opened it again to see if the sound had changed, but it hadn't. He tried asking the egg questions, shouting over all the wailing, but nothing hap pened. He even threw the egg across the room -- hadn't really expected that to help.

'What did Cedric want by the way?' Ginny asked one afternoon as they sat with Ron, Hermione and Neville in the corner of the common room. 'When we were going down to the Yule Ball he took you aside and spoke to you in private.'

In truth Harry had forgotten about their conversation. The rest of the night spent with Ginny had put thought of anything else out of his mind.

'Oh, yeah,' he said, casting his mind back. 'He said I should take a bath with the egg. He even have me the password to the prefects bathroom.'

'Why would he do that?' asked Ron suspiciously.

'Well, he said it was in return for me warning him about the dragons,' said Harry.

'You told him about the dragons?' Ron said in surprise. 'Don't you want to win?'

'Of course Harry wants to win,' said Hermione in Harry's defense. 'He just wants to be fair - we all know Fleur and Viktor would have been told about them by Maxime and Karkaroff. And it's paid off, because clearly Cedric is a man of honour too who repays his debts.'

At the time Harry thought Cedric was trying to humiliate Harry, but now - and maybe this was because he didn't want to go out with Cho anymore - he thought that maybe Hermione had a point.

As Harry had no idea how long a bath he would need to work out the secret of the golden egg, he decided to take Cedric's advice at night, when he would be able to take as much time as he wanted. Reluctant though he was to accept more favours from Cedric he also decided to use the Prefects' bathroom; far fewer people were allowed in there, so it was much less likely that he would be disturbed. 

Harry planned his excursion carefully, because he had been caught out of bed and out of bounds by Filch the caretaker in the middle of the night once before, and had no desire to repeat the experience. The Invisibility Cloak would, of course, be essential, and as an added precaution, Harry thought he would take the Marauder's Map, which, next to the Cloak, was the most useful aid to rule-breaking Harry owned. The map showed the whole of Hogwarts, including its many shortcuts and secret passageways and, most importantly of all, it revealed the people inside the castle as minuscule, labelled dots, moving around the corridors, so that Harry would be forewarned if somebody was approaching the bathroom. 

That night, Harry sneaked up to bed, put on the Cloak, crept back downstairs and waited for the portrait hole to open. Ginny had agreed to wait outside to give the Fat Lady the password ('Banana fritters'). 'Good luck, She whispered, climbing into the common room as Harry crept out past her.

It was awkward moving under the Cloak tonight, because Harry had the heavy egg under one arm, and the map held in frost of his nose with the other. However, the moonlit corridors were empty and silent, and, by checking the map at strategic intervals, Harry was able to ensure that he wouldn't run into anyone he wanted to avoid. When he reached the statue of Avis the Bewildered, a lost-looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands, he located the right door, leant close to it, and muntered the password, 'Pine-fresh', just as Cedric had told him.

The door creaked open. Harry slipped inside, bolted the door behind him, and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, looking around.

(GOF 399-405)

Out in the dark corridor, Harry examined the Marauder's Map to check that the coast was still clear. Yes, the dots belonging to Filch and Mrs Norris were safely in their office ... nothing else seemed to be moving apart from Peeves, who was bouncing around the trophy room on the floor above ... Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, where Ginny was waiting up for him.

'Well?' she said excitedly as he took the Cloak off again.

'It's mermaids,' Harry said glumly. 'They're going to take something and I have to retrieve it from them in the lake.'

'How did you work that out?'

'When the egg is underwater it sings a song with the clues in. I just have no idea how I'm going to breathe underwater for that long!'

'We can work it out,' said Ginny confidently. 'You've figured out the task, now you have two months to work out how to do it!'

Harry smiled at Ginny. He was glad to have her by his side in this.

*

It turned out that the solution was easier to find than Harry had anticipated. When he told Ron, Hermione and Neville about his discovery, Neville had the answer immediately.

'Gillyweed,' he said.

'Whatweed?' said Harry.

'Gillyweed! It's a Mediterranean plant that gives you gills when you eat it, so you can breathe underwater.' Neville said this as if it was all obvious, but from the blank faces around the table only he seemed to be aware of its existence, but Neville had always been good at Herbology. 'I read it in a book I got for Christmas, though I can't remember who gave it to me ...'

'That's brilliant!' said Harry. 'Thanks Neville. But where can I get hold of it?'

'Well Professor Sprout has some, but if we ask her then Cedric might here about it and use it too,' Neville said.

'Good thinking,' said Ron. 'We don't want to tip anybody else off.

'We could ask Professor Black,' Neville continued, 'he probably has some in his stores for potions.'

But Harry was reluctant to ask Black for his help after overhearing his conversation with Karkaroff.

'Or I bet you could pick some up from Dogweed and Deathcap at the next Hogsmeade trip.'

It was decided that this was the best course of action but, so as not to draw attention to Harry, Neville would pick some up, as he was more likely to visit the shop than the others.

And so the first day of the new term arrived, and Harry set off to lessons, weighed down with books, parchment and quills as usual, but with the knowledge that he was on the right track with the Second Task, and spending more time with Ginny - to Ron's irritation - felt much lighter than he had in a long time.

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn't see out of them in Herbology. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though, as Ron said, the Skrewts would probably warm them up nicely, either by chasing them or by blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin caught fire.

When they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped grey hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door

'Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago,' she barked at them, as they struggled towards her through the snow. 

'Who're you?' said Ron, staring at her. 'Where's Hagrid?'

'My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank,' she said briskly, 'I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.'

'Where's Hagrid?' Harry repeated loudly.

'He is indisposed,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly. 'This way, please,' she said as she strode off around the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville followed her, looking back over their shoulders at Hagrid's cabin. All the curtains were closed. Was Hagrid in there, alone and ill? 

'What's wrong with Hagrid?' Harry said, hurrying to catch up with Professor Grubbly-Plank. 

'Never you mind,' she said, as though she thought he was being nosy.

'I do mind, though,' said Harry hotly. 'What's up with him?' 

Professor Grubbly-Plank acted as though she couldn't hear him. She led them past the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and towards a tree on the edge of the Forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered. Many of the girls 'ooooohed!" at the sight of the unicorn.

'Oh, it's so beautiful!' whispered Lavender Brown. 'How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!' The unicorn was so brightly white that it made the snow all around look grey. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves, and throwing back its horned head. 

'Boys keep back!' barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest. 'They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care. Come on, easy does it ...' 

She and the girls walked slowly forwards towards the unicorn, leaving the boys standing near the paddock fence, watching.

The moment Professor Grubbly-Plank was out of earshot, Harry turned to Ron. 

'What d'you reckon's wrong with him? You don't think a Skrewt got him?'

Before Ron could answer a cold 'Hah!' came from behind them.

'You ought to read the papers more,' said Nott cooly.

'What are you talking about?' said Harry sharply. 

'Oh, it was all over the Daily Prophet today. Didn't you know that monster is a half-breed? I'm amazed he's been allowed to remain at the school as long as he has considering his mother.'

'What are you talking about?' said Ron, pulling out his wand.

'Ah, ah, ah,' said Nott, 'I wouldn't try anything in front of Professor Grubby-Plank if I were you. I don't think she'd take your side like that brute would.'

Harry, Ron and Neville reluctantly turned back to the lesson - clearly they weren't going to get any information out of Nott.

'I hope she stays, that woman!'said Parvati Patil, when the lesson had ended, and they were all heading back to the castle for lunch. 'That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like ... proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters ...'

'What about Hagrid?" Harry said angrily, as they went up the steps. 

'What about him?' said Parvati, in a hard voice. 'He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?'

'That was a really good lesson,' said Hermione, as they entered the Great Hall. 'I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about unicorns.'

At soon as they got to the Gryffindor table Draco was waiting for them.

'Have you read it?' he asked.

'Read what?' said Hermione, confused.

Draco reached into his robes and pulled out a folded page of newspaper.

'This,' he said, handing it over.

_DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE_

_Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly, when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures._

_Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the Headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better qualified candidates. An alarmingly large and ferocious looking man, Hagrid has been using his new-found authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons which many admit to be very frightening._

_'One of our classmates was attacked by a Hippogriff last year. It was so bad he had to move to a foreign school,' says Theodore Nott, a fourth year student. 'We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything.'_

_Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed 'Blast-Ended Skrewts', highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, it seems, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions._

_'I was just having some fun,' he says, before hastily chang ing the subject._

_As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown._

_Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring among themselves during the last century. The handful that remain joined the ranks of He Who Must Not Be Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle-killings of his reign of terror. While many of the giants who served He Who Must Not Be Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature._

_In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought about You-Know Whos fall from power - thereby driving Hagrids own mother, like the rest of You Know-Who supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend - but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants._

'So that's what Nott was on about earlier,' said Harry as he finished reading. 'Why are you showing us this?'

'I thought you'd want to know,' said Draco. 'I heard he's locked himself up in his cabin.'

Draco looked as though he wanted to say something else, but decided against it - Harry was reminded of Dobby when he wrestled with information - instead returning to Krum's side at the Slytherin table.

'You don't think Hagrid told her when she interviewed him, do you?' said Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

'No,' said Harry. 'He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn't give her loads of horrible stuff about me, she went ferreting around to get back at him.'

'No wonder he wasn't in class today,' said Neville. 'Giants have never been well liked by wizards.'

'What are you lot talking about?' ask Ginny as she sat down next to Harry.

'This,' Harry said, passing her the article.

'Well I suppose that makes sense,' said Ginny once she'd read it. 'Considering his size, I mean.'

'We've got to go and see him,' said Harry. 'This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back ... You do want him back?' he shot at Hermione.

'I - well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once - but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!' Hermione added hastily, quailing under Harry's furious stare.

So that evening after dinner, the five of them left the castle once more, and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. They knocked, and Fang's booming barks answered.

'Hagrid, it's us!' Harry shouted, pounding on the door. 'Open up!

He didn't answer. They could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn't open. They hammered on it for ten more minutes; Ron even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.

'What's he avoiding us for?' Hermione said, when they had finally given up, and were walking back to the school. 'He surely doesn't think we'd care about him being half-giant?' But it seemed that Hagrid did care. They didn't see a sign of him all week. He didn't appear at the staff table at meal-times, they didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties in the grounds and Professor Grubbly Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. 

Halfway through January the day of the Hogsmeade trip came.

'I've got bad news, Harry,' said Neville. 'Hannah wants to go with me tomorrow - so I won't be able to get you the Gillyweed.'

'Right,' said Harry, his heart sinking. 'Well, at least I've still got five weeks to get some.'

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny left the castle together on Saturday, and set off through the cold, wet grounds towards the gates. As they passed the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, they saw Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very skinny, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked, because he climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out his arms and dived, right into the lake.

'Looks like someone else has figured out what the egg means,' said Ron.

'He's got to be freezing in there!' said Harry.

'It's a lot colder where he comes from,' said Hermione. 'I suppose it feels quite warm to him.'

'Yeah, and it won't be much warmer in February,' said Ron anxiously.

Harry kept his eyes skinned for a sign of Hagrid all the way down the slushy High Street, and suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks once he had ascertained that Hagrid was not in any of the shops. The pub was as crowded as ever, but one quick look around at all the tables told Harry that Hagrid wasn't there. Heart sinking, he went up to the bar with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, ordered three Butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta, and thought gloomily of the prospect of diving into the freezing lake come February.

'Doesn't he ever go into the office?' Hermione whispered suddenly. 'Look!'

She pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed, and were looking rather menacing.

It was indeed odd, Harry thought, that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. He watched Bagman in the mirror. He was looking strained again, quite as strained as he had done that night in the forest before the Dark Mark had appeared. But just then Bagman glanced over at the bar, saw Harry, and stood up. 'In a moment, in a moment!' Harry heard him say brusquely to the goblins, and Bagman hurried through the pub towards Harry, his boyish grin back in place.

But before he could reach their table someone stood in his way.

'Hello Ludo!' said Sirius in greeting. Concern briefly crossed Ludo's face again.

'Sirius! What on earth are you doing here?' Ludo asked.

'I'm here to see my godson, of course.'

'Of course, of course,' Ludo said, his eyes flitting between the Goblins, Sirius and the door. 'Well, I must be getting off, lots to do, lots to do.' 

He hurried out the door and the goblins slipped off their chairs and followed him.

'Well that was decidedly odd,' said Sirius, before turning to face Harry and his friends. 'I thought I'd find you lot here,' he said, grinning.

'What are you doing here?' asked Harry, surprised at seeing his godfather.

'Well,' Sirius said, taking a seat, 'my dear brother informed my that it was Hogsmeade weekend, and you know I can't resist seeing my favourite godson. Nice to see you too, by the way.'

Harry couldn't deny that he was happy to see a friendly face. If they were lucky they might even find out how Professor Black knew Karkaroff.

'So, how did Harry treat you at the Yule Ball, Ginny?' Sirius asked.

'Oh, very well indeed,' Ginny said beaming. Harry on the other hand started to blush, Ron meanwhile scowled. He wasn't quite used to Harry and Ginny dating yet.

'And how's the preparation for the second task going?' Remus asked as he handed Sirius a firewhiskey.

'It's going well thanks,' said Harry, smiling at Remus, thankful for the change in subject. 'I know I have to retrieve something from the mermaids in the Great Lake. Neville thought Gillyweed would be useful to use, but none of us want to pick any up, in case any of the other champions catch on.'

'Well that's an easy fix,' said Sirius. 'I'll pick some up when we get back to London and send it up to you.'

'You'd do that for me?' said Harry. 'Thanks, that'll be brilliant!'

'Of course,' said Sirius. 'Now the important thing is, have you been keeping your eyes out for any funny business?'

Harry looked at Ron, Hermione and Ginny, then back at Sirius and Remus and lowered his voice.

'Well, Ginny and I overheard Karkaroff talking with your brother,' he began tentatively. 'They seemed to know each other. Karkaroff said your brother made him bring Draco back to Hogwarts, but his dad was unhappy with this.'

Sirius shared an odd look with Remus.

'The thing is Harry,' Remus said, before Sirius could say anything. 'When wizards get to a certain age we all begin to know each other. And Professor Black and Karkaroff have both been in education a long time.'

'But he seemed to imply that they knew each other from before they became teachers,' said Harry. 'If they both know Mr Malfoy then might Professor Black have been a Death Eater too?'

'That's enough, Harry,' Remus said firmly. 'I don't think it's right you should be speculating any further on Professor Black. Dumbledore trust him and that is all you should need to know. Professor Black has been working at Hogwarts for almost fifteen years now, I would remind you that he very kindly made me the wolfsbane potion throughout last year, he listened to Sirius and welcomed him back into their family home, and, if I remember correctly he has helped you a number of times Harry, in your first year when Quirrell tried to throw you off your broomstick, in your second year when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Time and again Professor Black has proven himself, and that's the end of this conversation thank you.'

Sirius gave Harry a look, as if to say _drop it, he won't budge._

'How's Hagrid?' Sirius asked, moving the conversation on.

'He's holed himself up inside his cabin,' Hermione said in exasperation. Remus frowned.

'We've tried to tell him we don't care that he's half giant,' said Ron, 'just like we don't care that you're a werewolf.'

'Thank you, Ron,' Remus chuckled, as Hermione elbowed Ron.

'The point is,' said Hermione, 'that evil woman is going round writing up scandal and gossip because she doesn't know how to write a real news story, and she's only picking on Hagrid because he wouldn't tell tales on Harry. I don't know where she got her information though, or how she was able to interview Nott when Dumbledore's banned her from school grounds.'

Remus looked pensively at what Hermione had said. 'Perhaps I should go and see him,' he said.

At that very moment Rita Skeeter entered. She was wearing banana yellow robes today, her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Sirius and Remus glaring at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.

'He didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights ... what nonsense - he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Sports, Ludo Bagman ... snappy start to a sentence, Bozo - we just need to find a story to fit it -'

'Trying to ruin someone else's life?' said Harry loudly. 

A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jewelled spectacles as she saw who had spoken. 'Harry!' she said, beaming. 'How lovely! Why don't you come and join?' 

'I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,' said Harry furiously. 'What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?' 

Rita Skeeter raised her heavily pencilled eyebrows.

'Our readers have the right to know the truth, Harry, I am merely doing my -'

'Who cares if he's half-giant?' Harry shouted. 'There's nothing wrong with him!' 

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious of the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing, Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin hand bag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill and said, 'How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. I see you have no problem consorting with those who would otherwise be outcast.' At this her eyes flickered over to Remus.

'What do you mean by that?' said Sirius, standing up.

'Sit down, Sirius,' said Remus, taking his arm.

'Ah the ex-convict and the werewolf. What lovely bedfellows you make,' said Rita. She turned to Harry. 'Do you see these people as substitutes for your father, would you say?'

Hermione stood up very abruptly, her Butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it was a grenade. 

'You horrible woman,' she said, through gritted teeth, you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they? Even Ludo Bagman -'

'Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about-'

'Don't you dare call her a silly little girl,' roared Sirius.

'Let's go,' said Sirius firmly, pulling Sirius away. 'She's not worth it.'

They left; many people were staring at them as they went. Harry glanced back as they reached the door. Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backwards and forwards over a piece of parchment on the table.

'She'll be after you next, Hermione,' said Ron, in a low and worried voice as they walked quickly back up the street.

'Let her try!' said Hermione shrilly; she was shaking with rage. 'Silly little girl, am I? Oh, I'll get her back for this, first Harry, then Hagrid ...' 

'I'm serious, Hermione, she'll dig something up on you -' said Ron 

'My parents don't read the Daily Prophet, she can't scare me into hiding!' said Hermione, now striding along so fast that it was all Harry, Ron and Ginny could do to keep up with her. 'And Hagrid isn't going to hide any more! He should never have let that excuse for a human being upset him! Come on!'

'I'll catch up, I'm going to say goodbye to Sirius first,' Harry said.

Sirius and Remus walked up to where Harry and Ginny were waiting.

'She's going to have her comeuppance sooner or later, that's for sure,' Sirius was saying angrily to Remus. 'She can say what she wants about me, but if she dares even think about writing about you!'

'Let it go, Sirius,' said Remus, 'I'm old enough to defend myself. Where are Hermione and Ron?' he added looking around.

'They've gone to talk to Hagrid, so we're going to go and join them. Thanks for coming up and sorry for cutting it short.'

'That's alright,' said Sirius pulling Harry in for a hug. 'Talk to me tomorrow night at 10:30,' he whispered in Harry's ear so Remus couldn't hear.

'Bye Harry, bye Ginny,' said Remus smiling.

'See you, Remus,' said Harry before turning back to Hogwarts.

'Keep hold of that one, Harry, she's golden!' Sirius shouted after them.

Harry and Ginny ran all the way back up road, through the gates flanked by winged boars, and finally caught up with Ron and Hermione at Hagrid's cabin. The curtains were still drawn, and they could hear Fang barking as they approached.

'Hagrid!' Hermione shouted, pounding on his front door. 'Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being -'

The door opened. Hermione said 'About time-' and then stopped, very suddenly, because she had found herself face to face, not with Hagrid, but with Albus Dumbledore. 

'Good afternoon,' he said pleasantly, smiling down at them. 

'We-er - we wanted to see Hagrid, said Hermione in a rather small voice. 

'Yes, I surmised as much,' said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. 'Why don't you come in?'

'Oh ... um ... OK,' said Hermione.

She, Ron, Harry and Ginny went into the cabin; Fang launched himself upon Harry the moment he entered, barking madly and trying to lick his ears. Harry fended Fang off, and looked around. Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire. 

'Hi, Hagrid,' said Harry.

Hagrid looked up

'Lo, he said, in a very hoarse voice.'

'More tea, I think,' said Dumbledore, closing the door behind Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny; drawing out his wand and twiddling it, a revolving tea-tray appeared in mid-air, along with a plate of cakes. Dumbledore magicked the tray onto the table, and everybody sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, 'Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid?'

Hermione went slightly pink, but Dumbledore smiled at her, and continued, 'Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door.'

'Of course we still want to know you!' Harry said, staring at Hagrid. 'You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor,' he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.

'I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry,' said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.

'Er - right,' said Harry sheepishly. 'I just meant - how could you think we'd care what that - woman - wrote about you?' Two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard. 

'Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid,' said Dumbledore, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. 'I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that, if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it -'

'Not all of em,' said Hagrid hoarsely. 'Not all of 'em wan' me ter stay.'

'Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time,' said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. 'Not a week has passed, since I became Headmaster of this school, when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?'

'Yeh - yeh're not half-giant!' said Hagrid croakily. 

'Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!' Harry said furiously. 'Look at the Dursleys!'

'An excellent point,' said Professor Dumbledore. 'My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practising inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery ...'

'Come back and teach, Hagrid,' said Hermione quietly. 'Please come back, we really miss you.'

Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard. Dumbledore stood up.

'I refuse to accept your resignation. Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday,' he said. 'You will join me for break fast at eight thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all.'

Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fang's ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Hermione kept patting his arm, and at last Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, 'Great man, Dumbledore ... great man ...'

'Yeah, he is,' said Ron. 'Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?'

'Help yerself,' said Hagrid, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. 'Ar, he's righ', o' course – yeh're all righ' ... I bin stupid my ol' dad woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'.' More tears leaked out, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, 'Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here ...' 

Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder, Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round and smooth - he looked hardly older than eleven.

'Tha' was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts,' said Hagrid, croakily. 'Dad was dead chuffed ... thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum ... well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really ... but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year ... Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job. Gives 'em second chances ... tha's what sets him apar' from other Heads, see ... trusts people, he does. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out OK even if their families weren' ... well ... all tha' respectable. But some don' understand that. There's some who's always against yeh, there's some who'd even pretend they just ha big bones rather than stand up an' say I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. "Never be ashamed" my ol' dad used ter say, "there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with". An' he was right. I've bin an idiot. I won't botherin' with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones I'll give her big bones ...'

Harry and Ginny looked at each other nervously. No doubt he was talking about Madame Maxime, and that explained why she had been so upset at the Yule Ball. Hagrid must have spoken to her about his mother then. Hagrid was still talking apparently unaware that he had said anything odd. 

'Yeh know wha', Harry?' he said, looking up from the photo graph of his father, his eyes very bright. 'When I first met you you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum an' dad gone, an' you was feelin like yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it an' now look at yeh, Harry. School champion!'

He looked at Harry for a moment and then said, very seriously, 'Yeh know what I'd love, Harry? I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all yeh don' have ter be pure blood ter do it. Yeh don' have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Dumbledore's the one who got it right lettin anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with that egg, Harry?'

'Great,' said Harry, 'I've solved it all.'

Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile. 'Tha's my boy! You show em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat 'em all.'


	57. Hermione's Task

Sunday night, after everyone else had gone to bed, Harry crept back to the common room with his two-way mirror to talk with Sirius.

'Hello, Harry,' Sirius whispered as his dimly lit face filled the mirror's glass. 'I've only got a few moments, otherwise Remus will know I'm up to something, so just listen.

'Remus doesn't think you need to know this, but I think it's important that you do. My brother used to be a Death Eater.'

Harry's mind was reeling - Professor Black was a Death Eater?

'Now, apparently he's changed his ways and, as you know, Dumbledore trusts him completely. But we all trusted Wormtail too. And I think that once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. And after his secret meetings with our cousin, Narcissa Malfoy, and him being best friends with Karkaroff, I think it would be pertinent to keep your eye out.

'I know what Remus said yesterday, but perhaps he's been playing the long game to deliver you to Voldemort himself.'

From Sirius's end Harry heard someone calling him from the distance.

'I've got to go Harry, stay close to Mad-Eye and keep watching for danger.'

Harry was now left alone with his reflection and his thoughts. He had a lot to talk to his friends about in the morning.

*

'Professor Black's a Death Eater?'

'Shush Ron!' said Hermione elbowing him and looking down the Gryffindor table the next morning at Breakfast.

Luckily no one had heard Ron's outburst.

'It makes sense though, doesn't it?' said Harry. 'I wonder what he did that means Dumbledore trusts him so much though.'

'But Sirius doesn't trust him?' said Neville.

'No,' Harry confirmed. 'He thinks he's still a bit too close to Karkaroff and the Malfoys.'

'Harry,' said Hermione carefully, 'you must remember that Sirius was in Azkaban for twelve years, and Remus seems to think -'

'Are you trying to say that Sirius has lost it?'

'No - no! Just that a lot has changed in that time. He's missed an awful lot.'

'Well, I think Sirius was right to tell Harry,' said Ron, buttering his toast.

Before Hermione could say anything else Hagrid had walked over from the staff table.

'Hullo you lot,' he said. 'Jus' wanted to say thanks again for talking' sense inter me. Anyway, I'll see you later.'

Whether Hagrid was trying to make up for the Blast-Ended Skrewts, or because there were now only two Skrewts left, or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could, Harry didn't know, but their lesson that day continued her lessons on unicorns. It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

Later in the week Hermione was kept behind after Potions by Professor Black. Concerned as to why Black wanted to talk to her on her own Harry, Ron and Neville tried to stay behind too, but he forced them out of the dungeon.

After ten tense minutes Hermione finally returned, a look of steely determinism on her face.

'What was that all about?' asked Ron.

'Professor Black's set a challenge for me,' Hermione said.

'What kind of challenge?' said Ron.

'If you must know, Ron, Professor Black is staying true to his word and we're going to have a debate on the rights of house-elves.'

'What? The rights of house-elves? Don't tell me you've got him to join spew too?'

'First of all, Ron, it's not spew it's S.P.E.W., and no, actually, he'll be arguing for their enslavement.'

'Sounds like the sort of thing a Death Eater would do if you ask me,' Harry said quietly to Neville who laughed.

The debate had been set for two Saturdays time. Members of the Slug Club were welcome to attend, much to Ron's annoyance. He had been looking forward to seeing Hermione and Professor Black argue with one another. To further annoy Ron, Viktor and Fleur had also been invited as honorary members. The meeting place was not in the dungeons as usual Slug Club meetings were, but instead on the seventh floor by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls how to dance ballet.

Two days before the debate an owl delivered the Gillyweed for Harry as Sirius and Remus had promised. He had taken to carrying it around with him at all times so that he didn't lose it.

Hermione had taken to spending more of her spare time than usual in the library, preparing for the debate, though when the day came she looked nervous as she, Harry, Neville and Ginny left Gryffindor Tower.

The walked in silence to the seventh floor tapestry, opposite which was a door that Harry had never noticed before.

'I guess this is the place,' Neville said.

Hermione stepped forward and knocked on the door. It opened and they walked inside.

The room was unlike anything Harry had ever seen in Hogwarts before. They found themselves in a vast chamber - not as big the Great Hall, but sizeable nonetheless. Certainly bigger than any of the classrooms. At the far end of the room was Professor Black, stood behind a lectern on a platform, a second lectern next to him which he indicated that Hermione should stand at. The rest of the Slug Club was already there, sat on benches facing the platform. There was another row of benches to the side which, as he got closer to them, Harry saw were also occupied, though here it was a group of house-elves who were seated.

Harry, Neville and Ginny took the last available seats, which happened to be in the front row, next to Krum.

'I thought you vould vant the best seats for this,' he said as they sat.

Professor Black stood and shook Hermione's hand, before turning to the students.

'Welcome,' he said. 'Those of you in the Slug Club with remember at our first meeting this year Miss Granger brought up the rights of house-elves. For our friends from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, Miss Granger thought that house-elves deserve to live freely in wizard society, that they should be allowed to wear clothes and be paid for the work they do.'

Harry heard a snort come from Fleur two rows behind him.

'Of course,' Professor Black continued, 'we cannot change any laws in here, it is not something that is within our power, however, I still think this is a useful exercise. As students it is my job to help you reach your full potential. Some of you in this room may well go into magical law enforcement. Some of you may well fight for the rights of those who don't have them.

'I will now concede the floor to Miss Granger for her opening argument. I would ask you all to be respectful and listen to all points of view you hear today politely, even if they differ from your own views.'

'Thank you, Professor,' she began, taking a sip of water. 'For too long house-elves have lived in the shadows of witches and wizards, relegated to clean up our messes in what can only be described as enslavement. The biggest crime though, was convincing them that their freedom was a thing to be ashamed of.

'House-elves are seen as lesser than witches and wizards, but they speak our language, have magic of their own, eat like us, sleep like us and have families like us. The fact that we force them to perform duties for us without any form of recompense is inhumane. They are born into slavery and the only exit is disgrace.'

The was a smattering of applause as Hermione sat back down, the loudest came from the front row. Harry could see the house-elves whispering amongst themselves.

'I hear Miss Granger's argument,' Professor Black said once quiet had returned. 'However, Miss Granger grew up in a muggle household and really has no sense of the house-elf within the wizard home.'

'With all due respect, Professor,' Hermione said, 'I completely understand the necessity of the duties they carry out, but what I am fighting for here is their right to fair compensation for the duties they undertake.'

'If I may continue, Miss Granger,' said Professor Black calmly, 'I am more than happy to hear your rebuttal after my opening statement.

'As I was saying,' he continued, 'house-elves have been a part of the way of life for countless wizards over hundreds of years. Their place as servants is tradition among many wizarding households. Why, even here at Hogwarts house-elves have looked after the castle and cooked and cleaned since its founding. What is more, house-elves are happy with their lot and, as such, should not be forced to take payment or days off if they don't wish to.'

Professor Black stepped back to indicate that he had finished talking, and gestured the Hermione should begin her argument.

'My apologies for interrupting you before, Professor,' Hermione said, 'however I feel incredibly strongly about this subject. My ancestors were not allowed their freedom, or pay when they were forced to work all day without respite. It was only with the help of those in power who recognised the wrongness of enslaving people based on the colour of their skin that they were able to be freed.'

'One difference I would note, Miss Granger,' Professor Black said, 'is that your ancestors wanted their freedom, where house-elves are most content with their position. I would also argue that you are talking about human beings enslaving other human beings, this is not the same thing, at all.'

'On the contrary, Professor,' said Hermione. 'In Eighteen Eleven Minister for Magic Grogan Stump defined a being as "any creature that has significant intelligence to understand the laws of the magical community and to bear part of the responsibility in shaping those laws". By this very definition house-elves are beings, the law applies to them. They have the responsibility to abide by the law and as such they should be afforded the same rights as other beings under those laws.'

Professor Black smiled across at Hermione from his lectern, though Harry thought it looked more like the smile a boa constrictor might give to a particularly juicy looking baby.

'I think it's time to hear from some house-elves themselves,' he said. 'I would like to introduce to those who have not met him, my own house-elf, Kreacher.'

Kreacher appeared on the platform with a crack. From the platform sprang a wooden structure for Kreacher to sit at an elevation - it reminded Harry of a witness box from a courtroom.

Professor Black walked across the platform and addressed his elf, face to face.

'Please confirm to everyone gathered that you are Kreacher the house-elf and are currently in the service of myself, Regulus Black, having served my parents Orion and Walburga Black before me.'

'Yes, that is all true, Master,' Kreacher croaked.

'And are you happy in my service, please answer freely.'

'Oh, yes, very happy, Master Black treats Kreacher very well. Very well indeed.'

'Again, please answer freely and honestly, if I were to offer you payment for your services would you accept?'

Kreacher recoiled at this as if Professor Black had set of a dungbomb.

'Oh, no, Master! T'would bring Kreacher great shame, Master!'

'And why would this be Kreacher?'

'Because it is not the house-elf way, Master!'

'Very well, thank you Kreacher.' Professor Black returned to his spot and then said, 'Miss Granger will ask you some questions now, please answer them all honestly.'

Hermione stood next to Kreacher. She had a tough job ahead of her, thought Harry. Kreacher was the perfect example of a house-elf who loved his job and hated the idea of freedom.

'Hello, Kreacher,' said Hermione. 'I'd like to begin with what you call the "house-elf way". By this, do you mean tradition. The way things have been done for hundreds of years?'

'Yes, Miss Granger. The house-elf way is important. We work in return for no favours.'

'Of course, of course.' Hermione paused, and looked thoughtful. 'I take it you come from a long line of house-elves who have looked after the Black family.'

'Yes, Miss Granger, this is true. Kreacher is the latest in a long line of Black family elves indeed. There has always been an elf in the Black family.'

'And what happens to an elf when they die?'

'If a house-elf is being lucky and a good elf in life then they would get their head put up on the wall,' Kreacher said, his face lighting up at the thought of being immortalised as a stuffed head.

'So I take it that the Black family home is lined with the heads of house-elves?'

'Not any more, Miss Granger,' Kreacher said, almost sadly.

'Why not, Kreacher?'

'After the death of Mistress Black, Master Regulus took them down because he found looking at them to be unsettling.'

'So,' said Hermione with a gleam of triumph in her eye, 'what you're saying is that your master, Professor Black, decided to change hundreds of years of tradition because he found it distasteful? Despite his previous statement that things should remain as they are because it's the way it's always been?'

Kreacher wriggled in his seat. Harry could see her was struggling with having proven the hypocrisy of his master's words, as well as the fact that he had only moments before been told to answer truthfully so would have to betray his master anyway.

'Yes,' he hissed through his teeth, before smacking his head on the wood in front of him.

'Stop that, Kreacher!' Professor Black ordered. 'Miss Granger has turned my words against me most cleverly, do not feel you have let me down. Her line of questioning was most ingenious. Thank you Kreacher, that will be all.'

Kreacher bowed low, clicked his fingers, and - crack - disappeared.

'The next house-elf is your choice, Miss Granger, who have you chosen?'

Harry knew what was coming before Hermione said the name, and sure enough, with another crack, Dobby's big, green, tennis-ball eyes were staring back from the stage. Harry could see that Dobby had managed to shrink Ron's Christmas jumper. He was also wearing a bright orange tea-cosy as a hat. He waved enthusiastically at Harry, who gave a small wave in return.

'Dobby,' said Hermione, 'you are a free elf, are you not?'

'Yes, miss,' said Dobby nodding so vigorously his tea cosy slipped over his eyes. 'And most thankful to Harry Potter, Dobby is!'

'And are you enjoying your freedom?'

'Dobby likes his freedom very much, miss.'

'I believe it is also true that you work, and receive payment for your work. Is this correct?'

'Yes, miss, Professor Dumbledore is hiring Dobby when no one else would, miss.'

'Why do you want to be paid for your work, Dobby? According to many wizards, house-elves are quite content to work for free.'

'Because Dobby likes clothes, miss. Dobby wants a proper wardrobe so people can see how happy Dobby is to be free.'

'Thank you, Dobby, I'll hand you over to Professor Black now.'

Professor Black moved across to Dobby and said, 'You say that no one would take you on as their house-elf until Professor Dumbledore, why is this.'

'Because Dobby is wanting paying, sir, and peoples is saying that a house-elf is not meant to be paid.'

'So, if everyone was to free their house-elves do you think they would pay for their help, or do you think they would take on free elves to work without payment.'

'Dobby is thinking they would not pay, sir.'

'And do you think house-elves would be happy to work without pay?'

'Not Dobby, sir, but Dobby is thinking other house-elves would work for nothing even if they was free elves.'

'My last question regards the house-elf you came to Hogwarts with, Winky. I believe she herself turned down Dumbledore's offer of pay, is this correct?'

Harry saw Hermione close her eyes. This was not going the way she wanted.

'Yes, sir, that is correct.'

'I thought so. Now, I want you to think about this before you answer, Dobby, do you think that Winky would be happier with her freedom taken away from her and in the employ of a wizard family once more?'

Dobby's face crumpled as he considered carefully what Professor Black had said.

'Yes,' he conceded.

'Thank you,' said Black, smiling and returning to his lectern. 'I have no further questions.'

Dobby disappeared with a crack.

'Now,' said Professor Black, addressing the Slug Club, 'you have heard my argument, and Miss Granger's, as well as the views of two house-elves. You are free to make your own decision on how wizardkind should move forward. However the important decision tonight is yet to be made.'

He turned and faced the house-elves who had been sat throughout the questioning.

'Our esteemed headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, has placed a sock under each of your seats. Those who wish to be free may take one. Dumbledore guarantees any of you who do continued work here at Hogwarts as well as a negotiable wage. Those of you who do not wish to may return to your work immediately. But if you change your mind Dumbledore's office is always open for you, and any other elf who wishes for their freedom, so please spread the word.'

There was much discussion amongst the elves who suddenly departed, the multiple cracks as they disappeared reminding Harry of a firework. He noticed that none had bent down to pick up a sock - in fact at the mere mention of socks a number had jumped to stand on their benches as if worried the sock would bite their feet.

'Well that's that, then,' said Professor Black, smiling. 'You argued well, Miss Granger, but you cannot change the nature of an elf. There will always be exceptions to the rule amongst any creature, but I'm afraid Dobby is very much the exception among house-elves.'

'Vell done, Herm-own-ninny,' said Krum as he helped her off the stage. 'You argued very vell.'

'Thank you,' she said, smiling a sad smile.

'How did you find out about the house-elf heads in the Black house?' Ginny asked.

'Oh, well I took a leaf out of Rita Sketeter's book and did some digging,' Hermione said quietly so no one else could hear. 'I sent a letter to Sirius asking for some help!'


	58. The Second Task

Harry spent the evening before the second task playing Wizard Chess with Ron. Hermione, Neville and Ginny were watching on. Harry still wasn't sure what he would have to collect from the mermaids, but he was confident that, with the Gillyweed, he would be able to complete the task successfully.

At quarter to nine, as Ron took one of Harry's Knights with one of his own, Fred and George entered the common room and joined them at their table by the fireplace.

'McGonagall wants to see you, Ginny,' Fred said. 'You too, Hermione.'

'What for?' ask Ron.

'I dunno, but it seemed important,' said Fred.

'Yeah, she looked more serious than usual,' said George. 'We're meant to take you to her.

Hermione and Ginny looked at one another nervously and got up out of their chairs. It was never a good idea to keep McGonagall waiting.

'Well, we'll see you in a bit, then,' said Hermione as they left the common room.

'What do you reckon that's all about?' said Harry.

'Who knows?' said Ron. 'But it's not like they're likely to be in trouble, is it? Well Ginny, maybe, but not Hermione.'

'Well we'll find out soon enough, right?' said Neville. 'They'll tell us when they get back, won't they?'

But Hermione and Ginny didn't return with Fred and George; nor did they return when Ron beat Harry for the third time that night; nor did they return as the clock struck midnight. Harry, Ron and Neville were the only ones left in the common room. They eventually drifted off to sleep in front of the fire around two o'clock.

Harry was prodded awake four hours later. He brushed off whoever had awoken him and stretched. As his eyes adjusted to the light he saw who had disturbed his sleep.

'What are you doing here Dobby?' Harry yawned, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

'Dobby was lighting the fire, Harry Potter, sir, so everyone keeps warm, and when Dobby saw Harry Potter he couldn't help but wish him good luck in his task today.'

Harry wished he hadn't bothered.

'Oh, thanks,' he said. 

Dobby bowed low and said, 'Dobby must get to the kitchen now, sir. It's time to get ready for breakfast.'

With a crack Dobby disappeared. Harry was still feeling groggy from the lack of sleep when he, Ron and Neville traipsed down for their breakfast at eight o'clock. 

'You look like you're going to fall asleep into your porridge, Harry,' said Fred as he and George sat down at the Gryffindor table.

'Yeah, didn't get much sleep last night,' Harry said. 'Have you seen Ginny and Hermione? We didn't see them come back last night.'

'No, not seen them all morning,' said George, looking around the Great Hall. 'Here,' he said, lowering his voice and passing a small bottle across to Harry, 'drink this.'

'What is it?' asked Harry.

'It's our Concentration Concoction,' said Fred. 'We're developing it to help kids studying for their exams - it really focuses you. We figure it'll help with staying awake during the task.'

'Thanks,' said Harry, yawning again. He was going to need all the concentration he could muster this morning.

'Good morning, Harry.' Mr Crouch had just walked up to their table. Harry slipped the bottle from Fred and George into his pocket, next to the Gillyweed. 

'Oh, hi, Mr Crouch,' said Harry.

'I just wanted to wish you good luck in the task today, though I'm sure you won't need it. You're all prepared for what lies ahead?'

'Yeah, I've got a plan,' said Harry.

'Good to hear,' said Crouch. 'Then I'm sure you won't be surprised to hear that we expect you by the Great Lake by nine fifteen in order for us to begin on time.'

As Harry walked across the lawn after breakfast, he saw that the seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to bursting point and reflected in the lake below; the excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Harry made his way around the other side of the lake towards the judges, who were sitting at another gold-draped table at the water's edge. He had taken a large gulp of Fred and George's Concentration Concoction, and he had never felt more awake. He would surely win this task. He had never felt so confident.

Cedric, Fleur and Krum were beside the judges' table, when Harry got there. Cedric grinned at Harry and Harry grinned back.

Ludo Bagman was moving among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks, and was holding his wand ready.

'All right, Harry?' Bagman whispered, as he moved Harry a few feet further away from Krum. 'Know what you're going to do?'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

Bagman gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, and returned to the judges' table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said 'Sonorus!' and his voice boomed out across the dark water towards the stands.

'Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One ... two ... three!' The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air, the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled the handful of Gillyweed out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and waded out into the lake.

The lake was so cold he felt the skin on his legs searing as though this was fire, not icy water. In hindsight he perhaps hadn't needed Fred and George's help, the lake was more than enough to have shocked him awake. His sodden robes weighed him down as he walked in deeper, now the water was over his knees, and his rapidly numbing feet were slipping over silt and flat, slimy stones. He was chewing the Gillyweed as hard and fast as he could; it felt unpleasantly slimy and rubbery like octopus tentacles. Waist-deep in the freezing water he stopped, swallowed, and waited for something to happen.

He could hear laughter in the crowd, and knew he must look stupid, walking into the lake without showing any sign of magical power. The part of him that was still dry was covered in goosepimples, half-immersed in the icy water, a cruel breeze lifting his hair. Harry started to shiver violently. He avoided looking at the stands: the laughter was becoming louder, and here were catcalls and jeering from the Slytherins. But he knew the Gillyweed would work. Neville knew plants inside out, and there's no way Sirius and Remus would have helped him get hold of some if they hadn't thought it would work too.

Then, quite suddenly, Harry felt as though an invisible pillow had been clapped over his mouth and nose. He tried to draw breath, but it made his head spin: his lungs were empty, and he suddenly felt a piercing pain on either side of his neck.

Harry clapped his hands around his throat, and felt two large slits just below his ears, flapping in the cold air ... he had gills. Without pausing to think, he did the only thing that made sense - he flung himself forwards into the water. The first gulp of icy lake water felt like the breath of life.

His head had stopped spinning, he took another great gulp of water and felt it pass smoothly through his gills, sending oxygen back to his brain. He stretched out his hands in front of him and stared at them. They looked green and ghostly under the water, and they had become webbed. He twisted around and looked at his bare feet - they had become elongated and his toes were webbed, too; it looked as though he had sprouted flippers.

The water didn't feel icy any more, either ... on the contrary, he felt pleasantly cool, and very light ... Harry struck out once more, marvelling at how far and fast his flipper-like feet propelled him through the water, and noticing how clearly he could see, and how he no longer needed to blink. He had soon swum so far into the lake that he could no longer see the bottom. He flipped over, and dived into its depths.

Silence pressed upon his ears as he soared over a strange, dark, foggy landscape. He could only see ten feet around him, so that as he sped through the water new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the oncoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glmering stones He swam deeper and deeper, out towards the middle of the lake, his eyes wide, staring through the eerily grey-lit water around him to the shadows beyond, where the water became opaque.

Small fish flickered past him like silver darts. Once or twice he thought he saw something larger moving ahead of him, but when he got nearer, he discovered it to be nothing but a large blackened log, or a dense clump of weed. There was no sign of any of the other champions or merpeople - nor, thankfully the giant squid.

Light-green weed stretched ahead of him as far as he could see, two feet deep, like a meadow of very overgrown grass. Harry was staring unblinkingly ahead of him, trying to discern shapes through the gloom and then, without warning something grabbed hold of his ankle.

Harry twisted his body around and saw a Grindylow, a small, horned water demon, poking out of the weeds, its long fingers clutched tightly around Harry's leg, its pointed fangs bared - Harry stuck his webbed hand quickly inside his robes and fumbled for his wand - by the time he had grasped it, two more Grindylows had risen out of the weed, had seized handfuls of Harry's robes, and were attempting to drag him down.

'Relashio!' Harry shouted, except that no sound came out a large bubble issued from his mouth, and his wand, instead of sending sparks at the Grindylows, pelted them with what seemed to be a jet of boiling water, for where it struck them angry red patches appeared on their green skin. Harry pulled his ankle out of the Grindylows' grip and swam as fast as a could, occasionally sending more jets of hot water over be shoulder at random, every now and then he felt one of the Grindylows snatch at his foot again, and kicked out, hant finally, he felt his foot connect with a horned skull, and look ing back, saw the dazed Grindylow floating away cross-eyed, while its fellows shook their fists at Harry, and sank back into the weed.

Harry slowed down a little, slipped his wand back inside his robes and looked around, listening again. He turned full circle in the water, the silence pressing harder than ever against his eardrums. He knew he must be even deeper in the lake now, but nothing was moving except the rippling weed.

'How are you getting on?'

Harry thought he was having a heart attack. He whipped around, and saw Moaning Myrtle floating hazily in front of him, gazing at him through her thick pearly glasses.

'Myrtle!' Harry tried to shout - but, once again, nothing came out of his mouth but a very large bubble.

Moaning Myrtle actually giggled.

'You want to try over there!' she said, pointing. 'I won't come with you ... I don't like them much, they always chase me when I get too close ...' 

Harry gave her the thumbs-up to show his thanks, and set off once more, careful to swim a bit higher over the weed, to avoid any more Grindylows that might be lurking there. He swam on for what felt like at least twenty minutes. He was passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as he disturbed the water. Then, at long last, he heard a snatch of haunting mer-song.

_'An hour long you'll have to look,  
And to recover what we took ...'_

Harry swam faster, and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears, and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Harry swam on past the rock, following the mer-song.

_'... your time's half-gone, so tarry not,  
Lest what you seek stays here to rot ...'_

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, Harry saw faces ... faces that bore no reason blance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the Prefects' bathroom ...

The merpeople had greyish skins and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at Harry as he swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better, their powerful, silver fishtails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

Harry sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and he even saw a pet Grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching him eagerly, pointing at his webbed hands and gills, talking behind their hands to each other. Harry sped around a corner, and a very strange sight met his eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople were floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople were singing in the middle, calling the champions towards them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. 

That was when Harry realised what he had to retrieve. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson. Hermione, Ginny, Cho Chang and a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths. The egg's song came back to haunt Harry.

 _But past an hour - the prospect's black  
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.'_

Harry sped towards the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy and very strong. He looked around urgently for something to cut them with. Many of the merpeople surrounding them were carrying spears. He swam swiftly towards a seven foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark fangs, and tried to mime a request to borrow the spear. The merman laughed and shook his head.

'We do not help,' he said in a harsh, croaky voice. 

'Come ON!' Harry said fiercely (but only bubbles issued from his mouth), and he tried to pull the spear away from the merman, but the merman yanked it back, still shaking his head and laughing.

Harry swirled around, staring about. Something sharp ... anything ...

There were rocks littering the lake bottom. He dived and snatched up a particularly jagged one, and returned to the statue. He began to hack at the ropes binding Ginny, who he figured was his to save, and after several minutes' hard work, they broke apart. Ginny floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom, drifting a little in the ebb of the water. Harry looked around. 

There was no sign of any of the other champions. What were they playing at? Why didn't they hurry up? He turned back to Hermione, raised the jagged rock and began to hack at her bindings, too. At once, several pairs of strong grey hands seized him. Half a-dozen mermen were pulling him away from Hermione, shaking their green-haired heads and laughing.

'You take your own hostage,' one of them said to him. 'Leave the others ...'

'No way!' said Harry furiously - but only two large bubbles came out.

'Your task is to retrieve your own friend leave the others ...'

'She's my friend, too!' Harry yelled, gesturing towards Hermione, an enormous silver bubble emerging soundlessly from his lips. 'And I don't want them to die, either!' Cho's head was on Hermione's shoulder; the small silver haired girl was ghostly green and pale. Harry struggled to fight off the mermen, but they laughed harder than ever, holding him back.

Harry looked wildly around. Where were the other champions? Would he have time to take Ginny to the surface, and come back down for Hermione and the others? Would he be able to find them again? He looked down at his watch to see how much time was left - it had stopped working.

But then the merpeople around him started pointing excitedly over his head. Harry looked up and saw Cedric swimming towards them. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which made his features look oddly wide and stretched.

'Got lost!' he mouthed, looking panic-stricken. 'Fleur and Krum're coming now!'

Feeling enormously relieved, Harry watched Cedric pull a knife out of his pocket and cut Cho free. He pulled her upwards and out of sight.

Harry looked around, waiting. Where were Fleur and Krum? Time was getting short and, according to the song, the hostages would be lost after an hour ...

The merpeople started screeching excitedly. Those holding Harry loosened their grip, staring behind them. Harry turned, and saw something monstrous cutting through the water towards them: a human body in swimming trunks with the head of a shark... it was Krum. He appeared to have Transfigured himself - but badly.

The shark-man swam straight to Hermione and began snapping and biting at her ropes: the trouble was that Krum's new teeth were positioned very awkwardly for biting anything smaller than a dolphin, and Harry was quite sure that if Krum wasn't careful, he was going to rip Hermione in half. Darting forwards, Harry hit Krum hard on the shoulder, and held up the jagged stone. Krum seized it, and began to cut Hermione free. Within seconds, he had done it; he grabbed Hermione around the waist and, without a backward glance, began to rise rapidly with her towards the surface. 

Now what? Harry thought desperately. If he could be sure that Fleur was coming ... But still no sign. There was nothing for it ...

He snatched up the stone, which Krum had dropped, but the mermen now closed in around Ginny and the little girl, shaking their heads at him. Harry pulled out his wand. 

'Get out of the way!'

Only bubbles flew out of his mouth, but he had the distinct impression that the mermen had understood him, because they suddenly stopped laughing. Their yellowish eyes were fixed upon Harry's wand, and they looked scared. There might be a lot more of them than there were of him, but Harry could tell, by the looks on their faces, that they knew no more magic than the giant squid did. 

'You've got until three!' Harry shouted; a great stream of bubbles burst from him, but he held up three fingers to make sure they got the message. 'One ...' (he put down a finger) 'Two ...' (he put down a second) -

They scattered. Harry darted forwards and began to hack at the robes binding the small girl to the statue; and at last she was free. He seized the little girl around the waist, grabbed the neck of Ginny's robes, and kicked off from the bottom.

It was very slow work. He could no longer use his webbed hands to propel himself forwards: he worked his flippers furiously, but Ginny and Fleur's sister were like potato-filled sacks dragging him back down. He fixed his eyes skywards, though he knew he must still be very deep, the water above him was so dark ...

Merpeople were rising with him. He could see them swirling around him with ease, watching him struggle through the water ... would they pull him back down to the depths when the time was up? Did they perhaps eat humans? Harry's legs were seizing up with the effort to keep swimming his shoulders were aching horribly with the effort of dragging the two girls.

He was drawing breath with extreme difficulty. He could feel pain on the sides of his neck again ... he was becoming very aware of how wet the water was in his mouth ... yet the darkness was definitely thinning now ... he could see daylight above him.

He kicked hard with his flippers and discovered that the were nothing more than feet ... water was flooding through his mouth into his lungs he was starting to feel dizzy, but he knew light and air were only ten feet above him ... he had to get there ... he had to ...

Harry kicked his legs so hard and fast it felt as though his muscles were screaming in protest; his very brain felt water logged, he couldn't breathe, he needed oxygen, he had to keep going, he could not stop -

And then he felt his head break the surface of the lake wonderful, cold, clear air was making his wet face sting: he gulped it down, feeling as though he had never breathed properly before, and, panting, pulled Ginny and the little girl up with him. All around him, wild, green-haired heads were emerging out of the water with him, but they were smiling at him.

The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise shouting and screaming, everybody seemed to be on their feet. Harry had the impression they thought that Ginny and the little girl might be dead, but they were wrong. Both of them had opened their eyes, the girl looked scared and confused, Ginny pushed her hair off of her face and smiled at Harry, before pulling him in for a kiss.

'Thanks,' she said. 'Knew you could do it. Mind you, I should have expected you to play the hero, shouldn't have I?'

'What do you mean?' said Harry.

'Well, bringing Fleur's sister too, instead of just me.'

'Fleur didn't turn up. I couldn't leave her,' Harry panted.

'You idiot,' said Ginny, laughing kindly. 'You don't really think Dumbledore would've let any of us drown, do you?'

'But the song said -'

'Only to make sure completed the task within the hour,' said Ginny. 

Harry felt stupid. Of course they wouldn't have let anyone die. But she. He was down there in the eeriness of the lake, surrounded by spear-carrying merpeople who looked more than capable of murder ...

'D'you mind helping me with her,' Harry said, 'I don't think she can swim very well.'

They pulled Fleur's sister through the water, back towards the bank where the judges stood watching, twenty merpeople accompanying them like a guard of honour, singing their horrible screechy songs.

Harry could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Hermione, Krum, Cedric and Cho, all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets. Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry and Ginny from the bank as they swam nearer. Meanwhile, Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

'Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?'

'She's fine!' Harry tried to tell her, but he was so exhausted he could hardly talk, let alone shout.

Dumbledore and Bagman helped Ginny out of the water, whilst Mr Crouch offered Harry a helping hand.

'Well done, Mr Potter,' he said as Harry got to he feet. 'Another fine performance.'

Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister.

'It was ze Grindylows ... zey attacked me ... oh, Gabrielle, I thought ... I thought ...'

'Come here, you two,' said Madam Pomfrey's voice; she seized Harry and Ginny and pulled them over to Hermione and the others, wrapped them so tightly in blankets that Harry felt as though he was in a straitjacket, and forced a measure of very hot potion down each of their throats. Steam gushed out of their ears. 

'Harry, well done!' Hermione cried. 'You did it!'

Harry noticed Karkaroff was watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table; the only judge not showing signs of pleasure and relief that Harry, Ginny and Fleur's sister had got back safely. 

'Thanks,' said Harry, smiling, but keeping his eyes on Karkaroff.

'You have a water-beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny,' said Krum.

Harry had the impression that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just rescued her from the lake, but Hermione brushed the beetle away impatiently and said, 'You're well outside the time limit, though, Harry ... Did it take you ages to find us?'

'No ... I found you OK ...'

Harry's feeling of stupidity was growing. Now he was out of the water, it seemed perfectly clear that Dumbledore's safety precautions wouldn't have permitted the death of a hostage just because their champion hadn't turned up. Why hadn't he just grabbed Ginny and gone? He would have been first back ... Cedric and Krum hadn't wasted time worrying about anyone else, they hadn't taken the mer-song seriously... 

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish.

Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges and said, 'A conference before we give the marks, I think.'

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had brought Fleur and her sister over to Harry and the others, gave her a blanket and some Pepper-Up Potion. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms, and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

'Look after Gabrielle,' she told her, and then she turned to Harry. 'You saved 'er,' she said breathlessly. 'Even though she was not your 'ostage.' 

'Yeah,' said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he'd left everyone other than Ginny tied to the statue.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek (he felt his face burn and wouldn't have been surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again), then said to Ginny, 'And you, too - you 'elped.'

'Well, I helped bring her to shore ...' said Ginny, looking at crossly at Harry, before Fleur swooped down on her, too, and kissed her on her cheeks as well. 

At that moment, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

'Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows ... 

'Miss Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by Grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points,'

Applause from the stands.

'I deserved zero,' said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

'Mr Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.' Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Harry saw Cho give Cedric a glowing look. 'We therefore award him forty-seven points.'

Harry's heart sank. If Cedric had been outside the time limit, he most certainly had been.

'Mr Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.'

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

'Mr Harry Potter used Gillyweed to great effect,' Bagman continued. 'He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Mer-chieftainess informs us that Mr Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own. Ginny and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, hall commiserating looks.

'Most of the judges' - and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look - 'feel that this shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However ... Mr Potter's score is forty-five points.'

Harry's stomach leapt - he was still in the lead, this time ahead of Cedric by one point. Ginny and Hermione, caught by surprise, stared at Harry then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.

'You get full marks from me too,' Ginny said, so that only Harry could hear her and squeezed his hand.

Fleur was clapping very hard, too, but Krum didn't look very happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry to listen.

'The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty fourth of June, continued Bagman. The champions will be notified of what is coming, precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.'

It was over, Harry thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes ... it was over, he had got through ... he didn't have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth.

He looked at Ginny and pulled her close. The next couple of months were looking up indeed.


	59. Professor Black's Task

In the aftermath of the second task everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the lake. Ginny and Hermione told of how Dumbledore had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor McGonagall's office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake when they were back above the water. Ron had been teasing Hermione about being the thing that Viktor Krum would most miss that she was in rather tetchy mood. Neville on the other hand was fascinated to hear Harry's first hand account of the effects of the Gillyweed.

As they entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out into the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. An owl from Sirius congratulating Harry turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry had no sooner torn off Sirius' letter than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again.

The final lesson that afternoon was double Potions. Nott, Crabbe and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson's gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something Harry couldn't see and sniggering heartily. Pansy's pug-like face peered excitedly round Goyle's broad back as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville approached.

'There they are, there they are!' she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. Harry saw that Pansy had a magazine in her hands - Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.

'You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!' Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Hermione, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, Professor Black opened the dungeon door and everyone shuffled inside. Hermione, Harry, Ron and Neville headed for a table at the back of the dungeon. Once Black had turned his back on them to write up the ingredients of today's potion on the blackboard, Hermione hastily riffled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the centre pages, Hermione found what they were looking for. Harry, Ron and Neville leant in closer. A colour photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled _HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE:_

_A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss._

_Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgaria Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has 'never felt this way about any other girl'._

_However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms which have captured these unfortunate boys' interest_

_"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how shes doing it."_

_Love Potions are of course banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers will be glad to hear that he has found solace in the arms of his best friend's sister, Ginevra Weasley, who seems to offer a great deal of comfort and much worthier of his love._

'I told you!' Ron hissed at Hermione, as she stared down at the article. 'I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of - of scarlet woman!'

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. 'Scarlet woman?' she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked round at Ron.

'It's what my mum calls them,' Ron muttered, his ears going red again.

'If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch,' said Hermione, still giggling, as she threw Witch Weekly onto the floor beside her. 'What a pile of old rubbish.'

She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Harry, Ron and Neville started unpacking the ingredients they would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.

'There's something funny, though,' said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. 'How could Rita Skeeter have known ...?' 

'Known what?' said Ron quickly. 'You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?' 

'Don't be stupid!' Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. 'No, it's just ... how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?'

Hermione blushed as she said this, and determinedly avoided Ron's eyes.

'What?' said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.

'He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake,' Hermione muttered. 'After he'd got rid of his shark head Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -'

'And what did you say?' said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Hermione.

'And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else,' Hermione went on blushing so deeply now that Harry could almost feel the heat coming from her, 'but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there ... or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak, maybe she sneaked into the grounds to watch the second task ...'

'And what did you say?' Ron repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk. 

'Well, I was too busy seeing whether Harry and Ginny were OK to -'

'Mr Weasley, please concentrate on what you are doing,' said an cold voice right behind them, 'I don't recall this potion requiring you to bore through a desk in order to make it.'

Black had glided over to their desk while they had been talking. He eyed the magazine on the floor next to them, before bending to pick it up.

'Ah ... I see Rita Skeeter is gossipping again,' he said glancing over the article. 'Well, you know I don't mind you talking as long as you get on with your work. But whilst you, Miss Granger, and Mr Longbottom, can make this potion in your sleep, no doubt, Messrs Potter and Weasley are a little more apothecarically challenged and clearly need all the concentration they can muster. I would remind you, Mr Potter, that though you may not be partaking in your examinations this year, due to your role as a triwizard champion, your O.W.L.s are next year, and the syllabus will, as always, build on what you have already learnt. So, let's get on shall we? You should have had that ginger cut up by now.'

There was a smattering of sniggers from the Slytherins, but silence fell when Black turned to them and said, 'That's enough, now.'

They continued working, only speaking to ask for advice or to borrow some equipment. About five minutes later there was a knock at the dungeon door.

'Enter,' said Black looking up from his desk.

The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up towards Black's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee again, and looking agitated.

'We need to talk,' said Karkaroff abruptly, when he had reached Black. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he was a rather poor ventriloquist. Harry kept his eyes on his ginger roots, listening hard, wishing they had picked a closer desk. 

'I was expecting you to turn up sooner rather than later,' Black said. 'Yours is getting darker too, I take it.'

'Yes,' said Karkaroff testily. 'He's back isn't he?'

'I think that can be assumed,' said Black, his eyes darting around the dungeon. Harry averted his own eyes so he wasn't caught spying.

'What are you going to do?' Karkaroff said.

'Igor,' said Black, 'this is not the best time, I am, after all, in the middle of a lesson. Let us talk in my office after dinner tonight, OK?'

Karkaroff agreed to this and hurried out of the dungeon.

Harry turned to Ron, Hermione and Neville, all who looked as concerned by this conversation as Harry was.

*

That evening, when everyone else was down at dinner Harry was in his dormitory, talking to Sirius on the two-way mirror.

'Well, I think you're right Harry,' said Sirius gravely. 'They must have been talking about Voldemort. All the signs point to his return. Have you spoken to Dumbledore yet?'

'No,' said Harry, 'I came straight to talk to you.'

'OK, well just make sure you stay vigilant,' said Sirius. 'Their meeting after dinner, did you say?'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'I wish I could listen in on that conversation.'

'Of course!' Sirius exclaimed. 'Talk to the twins, they've been working on something that means you'll be able to listen in. You'd better take your cloak with you though, if you go.' He paused, listening. 'Remus is coming, I'd better go. I don't think he'd like me encouraging you to spy on teachers.'

His face was replaced by Harry's own in the mirror glass. Harry stuffed his cloak, and the Marauder's Map into his bag and raced down to the Great Hall to find Fred and George. They were sat talking to Lee Jordan, all three tucking into their dinner.

'Hey Fred - George,' he panted as he reached the Gryffindor table, 'can I - can I have - a word?'

Fred and George looked at each other and said, 'Sure!'

'Away from the table,' Harry said urgently, glancing at the staff table where Black was already on to dessert. He then lowered his voice to say, 'Sirius said you might be able to help me.'

The twins looked at each other again.

'Do you swear?' said Fred.

'What?' said Harry.

'Do you solemnly swear?' said George.

'Oh,' said Harry realising what they were getting at. 'Yeah - I solemnly swear I am up to no good.'

'Brilliant!' said Fred and he and George leapt up from the table and went with Harry to an alcove in the Entrance Hall.

'So, what can we help you with?' asked George.

'Well, Sirius said you might be able help me eavesdrop,' said Harry hopefully.

'Ah, well, we do have a prototype,' said Fred.

'But it's a bit temperamental,' said George.

'But, as Sirius sent you to us, we're happy to lend it to you,' said Fred.

'But we'll want it back when you're done,' said George.

Fred fished a what looked like a long piece of flesh-coloured string from out of his pocket and handed it to Harry.

'Point one end at the door you want to listen through and the other end in your ear,' he said. 'The Extendable Ear will do everything else for you.'

Harry thanked the twins and raced down to the dungeons, throwing the Cloak over him when he knew he was alone. He took the Marauder's Map out and saw that Black and Karkaroff were making their way through the Entrance Hall.

Harry was waiting outside Black's office with anticipation. The two teachers came around the corner in a stormy silence. Black unlocked his office door and ushered Karkaroff inside.

Harry pointed the price of string at the door as Fred had instructed and put the other end in his ear. Instantly the string slid it's way under the door crack and Harry could hear the two professors as if they were stood next to him.

'... surprised, we knew this day would come,' Professor Black was saying.

'It was meant to be over the night the Potters died,' snapped Karkaroff. 'He was destroyed!'

'His body, yes, ... you are a fool if you don't think the Dark Lord had a plan for immortality!' Professor Black was cutting out. There was a scratchy interference that reminded Harry of a radio that wasn't quite tuned right. Fred had said the ear was only a prototype.

'What about me? I gave names, Regulus!' Karkaroff sounded more panicked than Harry had ever heard anyone sound in their life. 'If he's back then I'm going to be ... to disappear. If there's one thing The Dark Lord hates more than Mudbloods it's traitors. Being a Death Eater is a life time commitment. You can't tell me ... scared.'

'I am here at ... 's request. Therr is no safer place than Hogwarts, after all.' Professor Black sounded calm as he spoke to Karkaroff. 'The way I see ... have two choices. You can try to run away, or ... join me in my task.'

'That's an interesting contraption you have there, Mr Potter,' came a voice from behind Harry.

He turned around and found himself eye to electric blue eye with Professor Moody. Clearly his eye could see through Invisibility Cloaks. Harry tugged on the ear and out it in his pocket.

'Follow me,' growled Moody, as he turned and clunked his way back up the corridor. 'Stay under the cloak though.' 

Harry followed Moody back through the Entrance Hall and up to his own office. Once the door was shut Moody pulled the Invisibility Cloak straight off of Harry.

'I can't tell you how many times that little trick has saved my life,' he said gruffly. 'Here, drink this.' He handed Harry a Butterbeer.

Harry took a nervous sip. On the one hand he had been caught red handed spying on a teacher. On the other hand, Moody had not revealed this to Black, and a bottle of Butterbeer seemed a funny sort of punishment to Harry.

'You were listening to a private conversation between Professors Black and Karkaroff, am I correct?'

'Yes,' said Harry, seeing no reason to lie.

'What were they talking about?'

'Voldemort's return,' said Harry. 'Karkaroff seemed nervous.'

'What about Black?'

'No, he was calm. He mentioned a task he had been set.' 

Moody paced around his office. Harry took this moment to look around the office. He had visited this office under two of its previous occupants. In Professor Lockhart's day, the walls had been plastered with beaming, winking pictures of Professor Lockhart himself. When Remus had lived here, you were more likely to come across a specimen of some fascinating new Dark creature he had procured for them to study in class. Now, however, the office was full of a number of exceptionally odd objects that Harry supposed Moody had used in the days when he had been an Auror.

On a shelf stood what looked like a large, cracked, glass spinning top; Harry recognised it at once as a Sneakoscope, because he owned one himself, though it was much smaller than Moody's. In the corner on a small table stood an object that looked something like an extra-squiggly, golden television aerial. It was humming slightly. What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite Harry on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.

'Why did you feel the need to eavesdrop on their conversation, Harry?'

'I'd heard they were both Death Eaters,' said Harry. There was something about Moody that just felt like he could trust him. 'I thought they might have had something to do with me being in the Tournament."

'Bright boy,' said Moody with approval. 'Now, then, can you pass me that wonderful listening device that's in your pocket, please, Mr Potter?'

Harry reluctantly passed the Extendable Ear over and Moody inspected it with great interest. 'Where did you get this then, Mr Potter?'

This was something Harry had hoped wouldn't come up. He didn't want the twins to get into trouble. But he felt somehow compelled to tell Moody. He fought the urge.

'That's OK, Harry,' said Moody, 'take your time. Have another swig of that Butterbeer, why don't you?' Harry took a sip and Moody said, 'Now, where did you get this unique listening device?'

'Fred and George Weasley,' Harry said before he could stop himself.

'Very good, very good,' Moody said. 'Do they have anymore, do you know?'

'I think that's the only one,' Harry said. 'It's a prototype.'

'Very well, Mr Potter,' said Moody. 'I'm not going to deduct any points from Gryffindor, or give you detention. You're wise to be wary of Black and Karkaroff, I'll give you that, but I think you best leave the snooping to me. I have no doubt you'd make a damn fine Auror some day, but at the moment I'm the only Auror in this castle, and it's my job to make sure you see that day. You better get going, before anyone misses you too much.'

'Can I have the Extendable Ear back,' Harry asked Moody.

'So that's what it's called?' Moody said, 'No ... I don't think so ... I'll be holding onto this for the time being.

Harry left the office, thankful that he still had his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map, but worried about how Fred and George might react when he told them that Moody had confiscated their work.


	60. The Cruciatus Curse

By the time Harry reached the Portrait of the Fat Lady he was feeling terrible. Not only had he got the Extendable Ear confiscated, he had told Moody that he'd got it from Fred and George. Why would he do that after everything they'd done for him? They'd helped him today when he asked for it; last year they'd gifted him the Marauder's Map when he wasn't allowed to visit Hogsmeade; two summers ago they'd even broken him out of the Dursleys'. And he had just offered up their names.

Glumly he entered the common room. Fred and George were at a table talking with their friend Lee Jordan. When they saw Harry enter they sprang up and walked over to him.

'How'd it go?' Fred asked easily.

'Crystal clear,' said Harry, 'but the sound would crackle out every so often. But I have some bad news.' The twins looked at him with worry etched on their faces. 'I got caught by Professor Moody and he's kept the ear.'

'You're kidding me?' said George. Harry shook his head.

'Well,' said Fred, 'you didn't tell him you'd gotten them from us though, did you?'

Harry's silence told the twins that he had. The twins looked at each other, and Harry wondered if there weren't able to talk to one another telepathically.

'So, how did Sirius know what you were working on?' Harry asked.

'Sorry, Harry,' said Fred, 'but no more secrets for you. Come on, George. We've got a letter to send.'

The twins left the common room without another word. Harry went to bed that night feeling worse than he had in a long time. As he lay awake wrestling with the guilt of his betrayal he realised he hadn't eaten anything since lunch, not that he was hungry. He finally drifted off to sleep to the rhythmic snores of Neville from the next bed.

*

The next day was another trip to Hogsmeade. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Hannah made their way to the village just after noon. The weather was milder than it had been all year, and by the time they arrived in Hogsmeade, all six of them had taken off their cloaks and thrown them around their shoulders.

After some time spent in Honeydukes and Zonkos - and the half hour spent in Scrivenshaft's looking for the perfect quill for her father's birthday, much to Ron's bemusement - they decided to get a drink at the Three Broomsticks.

'You guys go on ahead,' said Ginny as they got to the door of the pub. 'I just remembered I wanted to check out some Quidditch stuff at Spintwitches with harry.'

'Oh, cool,' said Ron. 'Well we'll just come with you there first and then we'll get a drink after that.'

'No, we might be a while,' said Ginny.

'That's OK,' said Ron. 'It'll be more interesting than those quills at any rate.'

'Ron, let's just get a drink,' said Hermione, attempting to push him towards the door.

'Gerroff,' said Ron. 'Look, if you're that desperate, you lot go ahead and me, Harry and Ginny'll be back in a bit.'

'Ron, I think it's best if we let the professionals talk Quidditch alone,' said Neville.

'Yeah,' said Hannah, 'come and get a drink with us, Ron.'

'But -'

'I'd have thought you'd be wanting to see Madam Rosmerta anyway, Ron,' said Ginny.

Ron blushed deeply. He had always taken a fancy to Madam Rosmerta.

'No, I want to come with you two,' he insisted.

'Ronald!' Hermione said through gritted teeth, as she clawed his arm and she and Neville frogmarched him into the Three Broomsticks, Hannah holding the door open for them.

'Thank Merlin for that,' said Ginny, taking Harry's arm and steering him up the High Street. 'So what's up with you?'

'What do you mean?' said Harry, taken by surprise.

'Well, you've been in a mood all day long. And don't say you've not been, you didn't even laugh when Neville tripped over that old lady's walking stick.'

Harry didn't know what to say. That he'd been caught spying on a teacher and had given up her brothers' names as accomplices? He couldn't see Ginny being happy about that for some reason.

'Look,' Ginny said after a moment of silence, 'you can tell me now and let me help you, or, I can get Neville to brew up some Veritaserum, which I'm sure he could do with ease, and we'll feed it to you when you least expect it, and then force you to tell us.'

'What's Veritaserum?' asked Harry. Ginny looked at him in exasperation.

'How on Earth have you managed to survive this long? Veritaserum is a truth potion. It's colorless and odorless so you wouldn't notice it if we did use it.'

'So, if you drink it,' said Harry, 'you'd have to tell the truth, even if you didn't want to?'

'Yeah, said Ginny. 'Unless you had an antidote you'd be compelled to tell the truth, or rather what you believe to be the truth, that's why it's not permissable to -'

But Harry had stopped listening and instead scooped Ginny into his arms and kissed her.

'Have I ever told you I love you?' he asked as their lips parted.

'No,' said Ginny, blushing.

'Well I do,' Harry said, grinning. 'You're amazing and I'll tell you what was wrong later, but I need to find Fred and George first!'

'OK, they're probably in Zonko's,' said Ginny as she laced her fingers between Harry's. Then she said, very quietly as if it was a secret, 'I love you too, by the way.'

Harry squeezed her fingers tightly. 'I know,' he said.

They made their way back to Zonko's and, just as Ginny had predicted Fred and George had been inside. In fact they were just leaving with their arms piled high with products.

'Fred! George!' Harry called, breaking away from Ginny and running up to them. 'It was Veritaserum.' 

'Did you hear something, George?'

'No, Fred. Just a little wind, I think.'

Harry pressed on. 'Look, Moody gave me some Butterbeer and I bet it was in there. It makes sense - why else would I snitch? I've never done anything like that in my life. Not on a friend, anyway.'

Fred and George stopped walking away and had another one of their seemly telepathic conversations.

'Maybe you've got a point, Harry,' said Fred. 'But you still lost us four months worth of work.'

'I know, I'm sorry,' said Harry. 'But trust me when I say I didn't mean to. Moody snuck up on me. He must have seen me hiding with that eye of his.'

'OK,' said George, 'we forgive you Harry -'

'Thank you!'

'-but only because we've seen Mad-Eye twice already today and he's not said anything to us, so it looks like he's not going to give us a detention or anything.'

'We'll see you later, Harry,' said Fred. 'We've got some research to do.' He indicated his head at the boxes they were carrying, before they both made their way back to Hogwarts.

'Sorted?' Ginny asked walking up to Harry.

'Sorted,' Harry confirmed.

They rejoined the others and enjoyed some Veritaserum free Butterbeer, before making their own way back to the castle.

Once they were back in the common room, without Hannah and in a corner away from prying ears, Harry recounted the previous night's events to Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Neville.

'I can't believe you spied on a teacher Harry,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, but it proves that they're up to something,' said Ron. 'Who sent Black to Hogwarts and what's this task he has?'

'Lupin told us that Dumbledore trusts him and that should be enough for us,' said Hermione firmly.

'But what if Dumbledore got it wrong,' said Ron. 'It sounds to me like Black was waiting for Voldemort to return.'

'I'm amazed that Moody used Veritaserum on you,' said Neville. 'Mind you, he seems to be thinking that Black and Karkaroff are up to something as well. That's probably why he didn't punish you. He's probably noticed that Black hasn't attended either of the Triwizard tasks.'

'What?' said Harry and Ron in unison.

'He's not turned up to watch the tasks with everyone else?' asked Ginny.

'No ...' said Neville. 'Did - did no one else notice?'

'What's he been up to then?' Harry wondered aloud.

*

To Harry's relief, Hermione didn't bring up his spying the next day at breakfast. When the post owls arrived, Hermione looked up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something.

'What are you waiting for?' said Ron. 

'I've taken out a new sub scription to the Daily Prophet,' said Hermion. 'I'm getting sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins.'

'Good thinking!' said Harry, also looking up at the owls. 'Hey, Hermione, I think you're in luck -

A grey owl was soaring down towards Hermione.

'It hasn't got a newspaper, though,' she said, looking disappointed. 'It's-

But to her bewilderment, the grey owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl and a tawny.

'How many subscriptions did you take out?' said Harry, seizing Hermione's goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling close to her, trying to deliver their own letter first. 

'What on earth -?' Hermione said, taking the letter from the grey owl, opening it and starting to read. 'Oh, really!' she spluttered, going rather red.

'What's up?" said Ron

'It's - oh, how ridiculous -' She thrust the letter at Harry, who saw that it was not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.

_You are a WickEd giRL HARRY PottEr desErves Better go Back wherE you CAME from mUggle._

'They're all like it!' said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another. '"Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you ..." "You deserve to be boiled in frog-spawn ..." Ouch!'

She had opened the last envelope, and yellowish green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.

'Undiluted Bubotuber pus!' said Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.

'Ow!' said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to rub it off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though she was wearing a pair of thick, knobbly gloves.

'You'd better get up to the hospital wing," said Harry, as the owls around Hermione took flight, 'we'll tell Professor Sproul where you've gone ...'

'I warned her!' said Ron, as Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall, cradling her hands. 'I warned her not to annoy Rita Skeeter! Look at this one ...' He read out one of the letters Hermione had left behind, '"I read in Witch Weekly about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough handship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as can find a big enough envelope." Blimey, she'd better watch out for herself.'

Hermione didn't turn up for Herbology. As Harry and Ron left the greenhouse for their Care of Magical Creatures class, they saw Pansy Parkinson whispering and giggling with her gang of Slytherin girls. Catching sight of Harry. Pansy called, 'Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast?'

Harry ignored her; he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much trouble the Witch Weekly article had caused.

Hagrid, who had told them last lesson that they had finished with unicorns, was waiting for them outside his cabin with a fresh supply of open crates at his feet. Harry's heart sank at the sight of the crates - surely not another Skrewt hatching? - but when he got near enough to see inside, he found himself look ing at a number of fluffy black creatures with long snouts. Their front paws were curiously flat, like spades, and they were blinking up at the class, looking politely puzzled at all the attention.

'These're Nifflers,' said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. 'Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff there yeh go, look.'

One of the Nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Pansy Parkinson's watch off her wrist. She shrieked and jumped backwards.

'Useful little treasure detectors,' said Hagrid happily. 'Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?' He pointed at a large patch of freshly turned earth. 'I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the Niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a Niffler an' get ready ter set 'em loose.'

Harry took off his watch, which he was only wearing out of habit, as it didn't work any more, and stuffed it in his pocket Then he picked up a Niffler. It put its long snout in Harry's ear and sniffed enthusiastically. It was really quite cuddly.

'Hang on,' said Hagrid, looking down into the crate, 'there's a spare Niffler here ... who's missin'? Where's Hermione?'

'She had to go to the hospital wing,' said Ron.

'We'll explain later,' Harry muttered; Pansy Parkinson was listening.

It was easily the most fun they had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The Nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it was water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands Ron's was particularly efficient; it had soon filled his lap with coins.

'Can you buy these as pets, Hagrid?' he asked excitedly, as his Niffler dived back into the soil, splattering his robes.

'Yer mum wouldn' be happy, Ron,' said Hagrid, grinning, they wreck houses, Nifflers. 'I reckon they've nearly got the lot now,' he added, pacing around the patch of earth, while the Nifflers continued to dive. 'I on'y buried a hundred coins. Oh, there y'are, Hermione!'

Hermione was walking towards them across the lawn. Her hands were very heavily bandaged and she looked miserable. Pansy Parkinson was watching her beadily.

'Well, let's check how yeh've done!' said Hagrid. 'Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle,' he added, his beetle-black eyes narrowed. 'It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours.'

Goyle emptied his pockets, looking extremely sulky. It turned out that Ron's Niffler had been most successful, so Hagrid gave him an enormous slab of Honeydukes Chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch, the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville stayed behind to help Hagrid put the Nifflers back in their boxes. Harry noticed Madame Maxime watching them out of her carriage window.

'What yeh done ter your hands, Hermione?' said Hagrid, looking concerned.

Hermione told him about the hate mail she had received that morning, and the envelope full of Bubotuber pus. 

'Aaah, don' worry,' said Hagrid gently, looking down at her. 'I got some o' those letters an' all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou' me mum. "Yeh're a monster an' yeh should be put down." "Yer mother killed innocent people an' if you had any decency you'd jump in a lake."'

'Nol' said Hermione, looking shocked.

'Yeah,' said Hagrid, heaving the Niffler crates over by his cabin wall. 'They're jus' nutters, Hermione. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire.'

'You missed a really good lesson,' Harry told Hermione, as they headed back towards the castle. 'They're good, Nifflers, arent they, Ron?'

'Mmhmm,' said Ron, his mouth full of chocolate. 'Wonsum?' he said offering the bar to the others.

'Ron you'll run your lunch!' said Hermione.

'You sound like my mum,' Ron scowled.

They climbed the steps into the Entrance Hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch.

'Wish I had a Niffler,' said Ron, preying open his baked potato. 'It's rubbish, bring poor. I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money.'

'Well, we know what to get you next Christmas,' said Hermione brightly. Hermione was having a lot of difficulty managing her knife and fork, her fingers were so stiff and swollen. 'I hate that Skeeter woman!' she burst out savagely. 'I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!'

Hate mail continued to arrive for Hermione over the following week, and although she followed Hagrid's advice and stopped opening it several of her ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at the Gryffindor table and shrieked insults at her for the whole Hall to hear. Even those people who didn't read Witch Weekly knew all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Hermione-Ginny love square now. Harry was getting sick of telling everyone that he and Hermione had never dated.

'It'll die down, though,' he told Hermione, 'if we just ignore it ...people got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time -'

'I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds,' said Hermione angrily.

Their next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson was on the Cruciatus Curse. Since the Imperius Curse lessons Moody had been demonstrating a series of hexes and jinxes. 

'I think it's time you felt what the big one is like,' he said to the class. 'Well, not the big one. I shan't be demonstrating that on you, for obvious reasons. But I think you're ready for this. Of course this is completely voluntary as ever, but it you want to fight it, you need to know what it's like from someone who doesn't want to hurt you. So, who wants to give it a go?'

Only one hand raised, and Harry was surprised to see it belonged to Neville, especially when he knew that this curse was what had been used to torture his parents.

'Good man, Mr Longbottom,' said Moody, 'come up here.'

Neville left his seat and joined Moody at the front of the class.

'Now, then, Mr Longbottom,' said Moody. 'This will hurt a lot. The best thing to do is not fight it. Just try to relax, don't tense up if you can help it. I'm only going to give you a short burst at first, OK?'

Neville took a deep breath and nodded.

'Three ... two ... one ... Crucio!'

Neville instantly fell to the floor, writhing in pain and let out a scream. After about two seconds it was over. Moody helped Neville up from the floor.

'Are you ok, Longbottom?' he asked.

Tears were streaming down Neville's face and he was shaking, as white as a ghost.

'Y-yeah,' he managed to say.

'Good lad,' said Moody. He gave Neville a bar of Honeydukes Chocolate. 'Here eat this, you'll feel better. Take a seat, you did very well there, but I think you've had enough for one day.'

Neville took his seat again.

'Don't forget to eat that chocolate, Mr Longbottom,' said Moody. 'Now, do I have another volunteer?'

Unsurprisingly, after having seen Neville under the curse, no one raised their hands.

'I'll do it,' said Harry, getting out of his seat. Part of him realised that Moody was trying to prepare them for what might lay in the future, but mostly he didn't want Neville to be alone in understanding what the curse was.

'Mr Potter, I had hoped we might see you up here after your success with the Imperius Curse.'

'Now remember what I said to Mr Longbottom, try to relax, don't fight it. And remember, in real life they won't give you a countdown. You ready?' Harry nodded and prepared himself to get hit by the curse.

'Three ... Two ... One ... Crucio!'

It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced, his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar, his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end ... to black out ... to die ... And then it was gone.

Harry was on the floor, on his back, panting.

'Bravo, Mr Potter,' said Moody, helping Harry to his feet, and handing him some chocolate. Neville mouthed a 'thank you' as Harry returned to his seat.

As Moody had no other volunteers, and he didn't want to put Neville or Harry through the pain again, they spent the rest of the lesson on theory. When the bell finally rang Hermione stayed behind to ask Professor Moody something.

'Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!' Hermione panted five minutes later, catching up with Harry, Ron and Neville in the Entrance Hall.

'Moody says he didn't see her anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake!'

'Hermione, is there any point telling you to drop this?' said Ron.

'No!' said Hermione stubbornly. 'I want to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum!'

'Maybe she had you bugged,' said Harry.

'Bugged?' said Ron blankly. 'What put fleas on her or something?'

Harry started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment.

Ron was fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them. 'Aren't you two ever going to read Hogwarts: A History?'

'What's the point?' said Ron. 'You know it off by heart, we can just ask you. All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, and computers and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be ... if I could just find out what it is ... ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her ...'

'Haven't we got enough to worry about?' Ron asked her. 'Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well!'

'I'm not asking you to help!' Hermione snapped. 'I'Il do it on my own!'

She marched back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. Harry was quite sure she was going to the library.

'What's the betting she comes back with a box of I Hate Rita Skeeter badges?' said Ron.

Hermione, however, did not ask Harry, Ron and Neville to help her pursue vengeance against Rita Skeeter, for which they were all grateful, because their workload was mounting ever higher in the run-up to the Easter holidays. Harry frankly marvelled at the fact that Hermione could research magical methods of eavesdropping as well as everything else they had to do. He was working flat out just to get through all their homework.

Mrs Weasley sent them a basket of Easter Eggs in the holidays. Everyone's were the size of dragon eggs, and full of home-made toffee. Hermione's, however was smaller than a chicken's egg. Her face fell when she saw it.

'Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?' she asked quietly. 

'Yeah,' said Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. 'Gets it for the recipes Hermione looked sadly at her tiny egg.

'Here,' said Ginny, 'have some of mine.' She passed Hermione some of her own toffee. 'Honestly, I can't believe mum sometimes. I'm going to write to her and tell her to stop being so stupid!'

'Thanks, Ginny,' said Hermione, smiling.

A week later another dragon-sized egg full of toffee turned up for Hermione, with an apology for the mix up.

*

The start of the summer term would normally have meant that Harry was training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season. This year, however, it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which he needed to prepare, but be still didn't know what he would have to do. Finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held him back in Transfiguration.

'You are to go down to the Quidditch pitch tonight at nine o'clock, Potter,' she told him. 'Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task.'

So at half past eight that night, Harry left Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny in Gryffindor Tower, and went downstairs. As he crossed the Entrance Hall, Cedric came up from the Hufflepuff common toom.

'What d'you reckon it's going to be?' he asked Harry, as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night.

'Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels, she reckons we've got to find treasure.'

'That wouldnt be too bad,' said Harry, thinking that he would simply ask Hagrid for a Niffler to do the job for him. They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the pitch.

'What've they done to it?' Cedric said indignantly, stopping dead.

The Quidditch pitch was no longer smooth and flat  
It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it, twisting and criss-crossing in every direction.

'They're hedges!' said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

'Hello there!' called a cheery voice.

Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the pitch with Mr Crouch, Krum and Fleur. Harry and Cedric made their way towards them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Harry as he came nearer. Her attitude to him had changed completely since he had pulled her sister out of the lake.

'Well, what d'you think?' said Bagman happily, as Harry and Cedric climbed over the last hedge. 'Growing nicely, aren they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty foot high. Don't worry,' he added grinning, spotting the less-than happy expressions on Harry and Cedric's faces, 'you'll have your Quidditch pitch back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?'

No one spoke for a moment. Then - 'Maze,' grunted Krum.

'That's right!' said Bagman. 'A maze. The third tasks really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks.'

'We simply 'ave to get through the maze?' said Fleur.

'Not quite, Miss Delacour,' said Mr Crouh. 'There will be obstacles to cross, Magical beasts to get past and spells to break. You will be entering the Maze based on the points you currently have. Mr Potter, who is currently leading will get a head start, followed by Mr Diggory, then Mr Krum and, finally, Miss Delacour.'

'But you'll all be in with a with a chance depending on how well you get past the obstacles,' added Bagman. 'Should be fun, eh?' 

Harry nodded politely like the other champions. 

'Good,' said Mr Crouch, 'Now does anyone have any questions.' No one did.

'Jolly good,' said Mr Bagman. 'In that case then, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly ...'

Bagman hurried alongside Harry as they began to wind their way out of the growing maze. Harry had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help him again, but just then, Krum tapped Harry on the shoulder.

'Could I haff a vord?'

'Yeah, all right,' said Harry, slightly surprised. 

'Vill you valk vith me?'

'OK,' said Harry curiously.

Bagman looked slightly perturbed. 'I'll wait for you, Harry, shall I?'

'No, it's OK, Mr Bagman,' said Harry, suppressing a smile, 'I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks.'

Harry and Krum left the stadium together, but Krum did not set a course for the Durmstrang ship. Instead, he walked towards the Forest.

'What're we going this way for?' said Harry, as they passed Hagrid's cabin, and the illuminated Beauxbatons carriage.

'Don't vant to be overheard,' said Krum shortly.

When at last they had reached a quiet stretch of ground, a short way from the Beauxbatons horses' paddock, Krum stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to face Harry.

'I vant to know,' he said, glowering, 'vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny.'

Harry, who from Krum's secretive manner had expected something much more serious than this, stared up at Krum in amazement.

'Nothing,' he said. But Krum glowered at him, and Harry, somehow struck anew by how tall Krum was, elaborated. 'We're friends. She's not my girlfriend and she never has been It's just that Skeeter woman making things up.'

'Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often,' said Krum, looking suspiciously at Harry

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'because we're friends. I'm going out with Ginny Weasley!'

He couldn't quite believe he was having this conversation with Viktor Krum, the famous international Quidditch player. It was as though the eighteen-year-old Krum thought he, Harry, was an equal - a real rival.

'You haff never ... you haff not ...'

'No,' said Harry, very firmly.

Krum looked slightly happier. He stared at Harry for a few seconds, then said, 'You fly very vell. I though you might beat me in that game your professor made for us. This Ginny Veasley is also very good.'

'Thanks,' said Harry, grinning broadly, and suddenly feeling much taller himself. 'I saw you at the Quidditch World Cup. The Wronski Feint, you really are the best.'

'Maybe, but she von - how do you say? - square and fair?'

Harry laughed. 'Fair and square, he corrected. I'll let her know you said that.'

Krum was suddenly serious again.

'I am vorried about Draco,' he said. 'He does not belong at Durmstrang. But I think he struggled to find his place at Hogvarts. He is fighting who his father vants him to be, and who he vants to be.'

'You two seem to be close,' Harry said.

'Yes,' said Krum. 'Ven he came to our school at the end of last year, he vas lost, very out of place. I saw him flying on the Quidditch pitch at night, and so be got to know each other. I vorry about next year ven I haff left Durmstrang. I asked for him to come here, so he vouldn't be so alone, but perhaps that vas a bad choice. Perhaps he should haff been given the chance to find friends at Durmstrang.'

They had began walking back to the Durmstang ship now. Harry could see it bobbing gently on the Great Lake.

'Vell, goodnight, Harry,' said Krum, stretching his hand out.

'Night,' said Harry, shaking Krum's hand.

Harry had a lot to think about as he headed back to the castle.


	61. Before the Final Task

The Hogwarts grounds never looked more inviting than when Harry had to stay indoors. For the next few months he spent all of his free time either in the library with Hermione, Ron, Neville and Ginny looking up hexes, or else in empty classrooms, which they sneaked into to practise. Because the others had exams coming up they paired up - Hermione with Ron, Neville with Ginny - for Harry to practise with - and on - one day, and allowing them to study the next, whilst the other pair helped Harry.

Harry had been working on the Stunning Spell (which, unsurprisingly, stunned any opponents it went up against), the Impediment Jinx (which would slow down and obstruct attackers), the Reductor Curse (which would allow Harry to blast objects out of his way) and a number of other hexes which he had never used before. He felt more confident about this task than either of the others. Difficult and dangerous though it would undoubtedly be, Harry had managed to find his way past monstrous creatures and enchanted barriers before now, and this time he had some notice, some chance to prepare himself for what lay ahead.

As June arrived, and the excitement for the third task grew, Professor McGonagall, tired of walking in on them all over the school, all had given Harry permission to use the empty trasfiguration classroom at lunchtimes. Hermione had discovered the Four Point Spell, a useful find, which would make his wand point due north, therefore enabling him to check whether he was going in the right direction within the maze. He was still having trouble with the Shield Charm, though. This was supposed to cast a temporary, invisible wall around himself that deflected minor curses; Hermione managed to shatter it with a well-placed Jelly-Legs Jinx. Harry wobbled around the room for ten minutes afterwards before she had looked up the counter-jinx.

'You're still doing really well, though,' Hermione said encouragingly, looking down her list, and crossing off those spells they had already learnt. 'Some of these are bound to come in hand. Let's try that Shield Charm again.'

Harry's nerves mounted as June the twenty-fourth drew closer, but they were not as bad as those he had had before the fire and second tasks. For one thing, he was confident that, this time, he had done everything in his power to prepare for the task. For another, this was the final hurdle, and however well or badly he did, the Tournament would at last be over, which would be an enormous relief.

Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task. The post owls appeared, with a screech owl for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. She unfolded the paper, and rifled her way through it. 

'Nothing,' she said, folding the newspaper. 'She's been awfully quiet recently. She must be working on a big story. Probably wants to break it after the final task. Harry, I've been thinking - what if the four of us had the map tonight to keep a lookout for her. If she comes onto school grounds we could expose her.'

'Yeah,' said Ron, 'I reckon I could use the Stunning Spell on her, y'know!'

Harry agreed that this would be a sensible idea and resolved to pick the map up prior to going down to the task.

'What're you going to do in Binns's class,' Ron asked Harry. 'Read again?'

The History of Magic exam was this morning, but as a Triwizard champion Harry was exempt from all end of year tests and had been sitting at the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.

'S'pose so,' Harry said; but just then, Professor McGonagall came walking along the Gryffindor table towards him.

'Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber the Hall after breakfast,' she said.

'But the task's not 'til tonight' said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.

'I'm aware of that, Potter,' she said. 'The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them.'

She moved away. Harry gaped after her.

'She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up. does she?' he asked. 

'Dunno,' said Ron.

'Harry, we've got to go,' said Hermione. 'We don't want to be late for Professor Binns.'

'See you later,' said Ron as the three of them walked off.

Ginny's last exam was Transfiguration that afternoon so she and Harry finished breakfast together in the emptying Great Hall. They saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered. Krum slouched off to join them shortly afterwards. Harry stayed where he was. He really didn't want to go into the chamber. He had no family - no family who would turn up to see him risk his life, anyway.

Ginny was looking at him curiously.

'What?' he asked her.

'Well don't you want to know who's turned up to see you?' she said.

'Well I assume there's no one there for me. It's not like the Dursleys would come watch. Unless someone told them there was a chance I might die. But they're the only family I have.'

'You're so thick sometimes,' said Ginny.

At that moment the door of the side chamber opened, and Cedric stuck his head out.

'Harry, come on, they're waiting for you!'

'I'll see you at lunch,' said Ginny, giving him a quick kiss before leaving to study for her exam. Utterly perplexed, Harry got up. He walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber. Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his father's hooked nose. On the other side of the room. Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand, She waved at Harry who waved back. Then he saw Sirius, Remus, Mrs Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him.

'Surprise!' Mrs Weasley said excitedly, as Harry smiled broadly, and walked over to them. 'Thought we'd come and watch you, Harry.'

She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. 

'All right?' said Bill, grinning at Harry and shaking his hand. 'Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against the Horntail.' Fleur Delacour, Harry noticed, was eyeing Bill with great rest over her mother's shoulder. Harry could tell she had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them. 'Dad and Perce are stuck at the Ministry. There's a lot going on there at the moment.'

'Hello, Harry,' said Remus kindly.

Finally Harry turned to his godfather who had been waiting patiently. He now walked over with his arms outstretched and gave Harry a huge bear-hug.

'Good to see you, Harry!'

'Thanks for coming,' Harry said to them once he got his breath back. 'I thought for a moment - the Dursleys -'

'Hmm,' said Mrs Weasley, pursing her lips. She had always refrained from criticising the Dursleys in front of Harry, but her eyes flashed every time they were mentioned. 

'It's great being back here,' said Bill, looking around the chamber (Violet, the Fat Lady's friend, winked at him from her frame). 'Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?' 

'Oh, yeah,' said Harry, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.

'And the Fat Lady?' said Bill.

'She was here in my time,' said Mrs Weasley. 'She gave me such a telling-off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -'

'What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?' said Bill, surveying Mrs Weasley with amazement.

Mrs Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling. 'Your father and I had been for a night-time stroll,' she said. 'He got caught by Apollyon Pringle - he was the caretaker in those days - your father's still got the marks.'

'Molly, you floozy!' laughed Sirius. Molly smiled at the memory, somewhat mischievously, Harry thought.

'Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?' said Bill.

'Yeah, OK,' said Harry, and they made their way back towards the door into the Great Hall.

As they passed Amos Diggory, he looked around. 

'There you are, are you?' he said, looking Harry up and down. 'Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric's only one point behind you, are you?'

'What?' said Harry

'Ignore him,' said Cedric in a low voice to Harry, frowning after his father. 'He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament - you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion.'

'Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?' said Amos Diggory, loudly enough for Harry to hear as he made to walk out of the door with Sirius, Remus, Mrs Weasley and Bill. 'Still you'll show him, Ced!'

'Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble,' Mrs Weasley said angrily. 'I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!'

Mr Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry, but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away.

Harry had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Sirius, Remus, Bill and Mrs Weasley, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. Mrs Weasley was intrigued by the Whomping Willow, which had been planted after she had left school, and which Remus and Sirius were more than happy to educate her on. She reminisced at length about the gamekeeper before Hagrid, a man called Ogg. A lot of students kept coming up to Remus saying how nice it was to see him again and how much they missed him as a teacher.

They returned to the castle for lunch. 

'Mum - Bill!' said Ron, looking stunned, as he, Hermione and Neville joined the Gryffindor table. 'What're you doing here?'

'Come to watch Harry in the last task!' said Mrs Weasley brightly I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?' 

'Oh, OK,' said Ron. 'Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right,' he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs Weasley looked stern, they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean, it wasn't hard.'

'Hermione, dear, I'm so sorry about the mix-up with the eggs at Easter.'

Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry.

'It's fine,' said Hermione.

Ginny was next to turn up.

'Told you you were being thick if you thought no one would show up to see you,' she said taking the seat next to Harry.

'Ready for your exam?' Harry asked her.

'Just about.'

Last to join came Fred and George, who sat next to Sirius in deep conversation. Mrs Weasley kept throwing disapproving glances their way. Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he was back at The Burrow; he had forgotten to worry about that evening's task.

'Regulus!' exclaimed Sirius as his brother came over to their table. 'This is the winner's table, so I'm afraid you can't be here. Losers sit on the other side of the Great Hall - I don't make the rules.'

Professor Black smiled a cold smile at Sirius.

'Don't worry, brother, dear,' he said measuredly. 'It was actually Mrs Weasley I wanted to have a quiet word with. Don't worry,' he added, noticing Mrs Weasley narrow her eyes towards the twins. 'No-one's in trouble.'

Professor Black led Mrs Weasley away from the Great Hall.

'What do you reckon that's all about?' Ron asked.

'Unfortunately,' Sirius said in a low voice, 'my godson lost the only thing we'd be able to listen in on them with.'

'What are you whispering about?' Remus asked from down the table where he was talking to Neville.

'Nothing, dear!' said Sirius brightly, winking at Harry.

'I've been meaning to ask,' Harry said. 'How did you know about the Extendable Ear?'

'Well I can't say too much at the moment,' said Sirius, 'but the twins and I have a business plan on place, ready for when they leave school next year. I'm very impressed with all their hard work, I'm sure it'll be a real success, actually.'

After lunch Ginny went to her Transfiguration exam, Ron, Hermione, Neville Fred and George went to their last class of the day, and Harry went to fetch the Marauder's Map, whilst Sirius, Remus and Bill waited in the Entrance Hall for Mrs Weasley to return, which she had done by the time Harry had rejoined the group himself.

Harry, Sirius, Remus, Bill and Mrs Weasley whiled away the afternoon with another long walk around the castle.

Harry gave Sirius the Map to look after whilst the other three walked by the lake.

'Hermione thought it'd be a good idea to use this and look out for Rita Skeeter in case she decides to turn up tonight,' Harry explained.

'She's very clever, that young witch,' said Sirius approvingly. 'We can keep our eye out in case my brother tries any funny business too. Are you feeling confident, Harry?'

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'I've done a lot of preparation for this one, and I get to enter the maze first.'

'Yes, that will be handy,' said Sirius. 'Whatever happens tonight, just know that I'm proud of you, and your mum and dad would be too.'

They returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, though Crouch was as serious as ever.

Next to Crouch, Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Harry thought her face looked red. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her.

There were more courses than usual, but Harry, who was starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

'Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch pitch for the third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch down to the stadium now.'

Harry got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him; Sirius, Remus, Hermione, Neville and the Weasleys all wished him good luck, and he headed off out of the Great Hall, with Cedric, Fleur and Krum.

'Feeling all right, Harry?' Bagman asked, as they went down the stone steps into the grounds. 'Confident?'

'I'm OK,' said Harry. It was sort of true; he was nervous, but he kept running over all the hexes and spells he had beet practising in his mind as they walked, and the knowledge the he could remember them all made him feel better.

They walked onto the Quidditch pitch, which was now completely unrecognisable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front them; the entrance to the vast maze. The passage behind it looked dark and creepy. 

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill, the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundred of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin waistcoat. 

'We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze,' said Professor McGonagall to the champions, 'If you get into difficulty and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?' 

The champions nodded.

'Off you go, then!' said Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.

'Good luck, Harry,' Hagrid whispered, and the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. 

Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered 'Sonorus', and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

'Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! In first place, on eighty five points - Mr Harry Potter, of Hogwarts School!' The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. 'In second place, just a point behind his fellow Hogwarts champion, on eighty four points is Mr Cedric Diggory!' More rapturous applauding. 'In third place, on eighty points - Mr Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!' More applause. 'And in fourth place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!'

Harry could just make out Sirius, Remus, Hermione, Neville and the Weasleys applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. He waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at him.

'Are you ready?' Mr Crouch asked Harry. Harry nodded a determined nod.

'So ... on my whistle, Harry!' said Bagman.

'Three - two - one -'


	62. The Third Task

Bagman gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry hurried forwards into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick, or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment he entered the maze. Harry felt almost as though he was underwater again. He pulled out his wand and muttered 'Lumos.'

After about fifty yards, he reached a fork. He decided to take the path to the right. Harry heard Bagman's whistle for the second time. Cedric had entered the maze. Harry sped up. His chosen path seemed  
completely deserted. He broke into a light jog and followed the path around the corner coming face to face with himself.

It wasn't a mirror he was looking into, but some kind of reflective viscous barrier. If he turned back now he would just waste time. He tentatively put his finger to the barrier and found it went straight through. Whatever the barrier was made of was icy cold, but it didn't hurt him. He heard Bagman's whistle blow in the distance for the third time. Krum had now joined them in the maze. Harry ran through the barrier.

The path was clear again, other than a second viscous barrier about twelve feet away, but Harry found himself slowing down. He tried to speed up and race towards the barrier, but the faster he tried to go, the more he felt himself slow. He decided to stop and think of the best way to face this challenge. The moment he thought about stopping he felt his whole body shoot forward and up the path. He was flung out of the other barrier and found himself on his hands and knees.

Catching his breath and standing once more he heard the whistle blow for a fourth time. Everyone was in the maze now. The maze was growing dark with every passing minute as the sky overhead deepened navy. 

He reached a second fork. 'Point me,' he whispered to his wand, holding it flat in his palm. The wand spun around once, and pointed towards his left into solid hedge. That way was north, and he knew that he needed to go north-west for the centre of the maze. The best he could do was to take the left fork, and go right again as soon as possible.

The path ahead was empty, too, and when Harry reached the next right turn and took it, he found his next obstacle. It was a creature of about six feet long, with three heads and orange and black stripes. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was some kind of serpent and he was a Parselmouth.

' _Hello_ ' Harry said in Parseltongue. ' _Do you mind if I walk past you. I need to get to the centre of the maze, you see._ '

The snake raised it's left and right heads.

' _Why thould we move for you? What'th in it for uth?_ ' asked the head on the right in a deep hiss, it's large fangs causing it to lisp.

' _The boy asked us politely enough,_ ' hissed the head on the leftt. The middle head said nothing. It seemed to be sleeping. The serpent moved to the side to allow Harry to pass.

' _Thanks,_ ' said Harry, stepping forward. As he did so the head on the right beared its fangs and lunged forward.

' _Why are you letting the human go?_ ' the right head asked the left. ' _He lookth like a tasty treat to me. All meat, no fat!_ '

' _Please excuse my brother-head,_ ' said the left head apologetically, as the snake pressed it's body further against the hedge. ' _He always was the cranky one._ '

' _Cranky am I, thithter-head?_ ' hissed the right head, snapping his jaws at the head on the left.

At this the middle head seemed to awake.

' _You awoke me from my ssslumber,_ ' the middle head moaned. ' _I wasss having the mossst wonderful dream._ '

' _What was your dream?_ ' asked the left head.

' _Who careth what our brother-head dreamt?_ ' snapped the right head. ' _There ith a boy here, ripe for the eating!_ '

Harry tried to use their argument to sneak past the serpent, but again the right head lunged forward, pushing Harry back up the path he had come down.

' _My dream wasss that we were only two headsss,_ ' said the middle head.

' _That sounds like an wonderful dream, brother-head. Perhaps it would be a wonderful reality._ '

' _It wasss a wonderful dream, sssissster-head,_ ' the middle head confirmed.

' _Then let us make it so,_ ' the lefyt head said venomously.

All of a sudden the snake launched itself across the path, the left and middle heads attacking the right head. After mere seconds the right head lay twitching on the floor. Where the head's neck had been attached to their body, was a bloodless stump, already healed over.

' _Apologies you had to see that,_ ' said the sister-head of the snake.

' _Our brother-head alwaysss wasss a drag,_ ' said the remaining brother-head.

The snake moved aside once more, and the living brother-head seemed to yawn and settled down to sleep once more.

' _Good luck on your journey, boy,_ ' said the sister-head.

' _Thanks,_ ' said Harry. He passed the snake then stopped to look back at them. He thought about his fellow champions. If they met the snake may not be so friendly to those it couldn't communicate with. Likewise Cedric, Viktor and Fleur would likely attack on sight. Plus a snake of this size and ferocity could be a useful ally.

' _You wouldn't want to come with me, would you?_ ' asked Harry. ' _There are other humans in here that might attack you, and you might be able to help me get to the centre._ '

The sister-head mulled over Harry's suggestion, before slithering over to him. Harry found himself eye to eye with her.

' _Yes, that sounds like a good proposal to me,_ ' she said. ' _Lead the way._ '

Harry continued down his path, wand lit and outstretched. He peered into the darkness, only pausing to check he was still moving in the right direction at the forks in the maze. Taking the snake along with him appeared to be the right choice, as many of the smaller creatures in the maze fled at the sight of the serpent.

' _I'm Harry,_ ' he said as they made there way through the tall hedges. ' _Do you and your brother-head have names._ '

' _No,_ ' said the sister-head. ' _We have never needed them. But perhaps my brother-head has dreamt some up for us._ ' Slithering along she nudged her brother-head out of his sleep. 

' _Sorry to disturb your slumber again, brother-head, but the boy has asked if we have names. His is Harry - I think it is something the humans like to have to identify each other._ ' 

The brother-head tilted his head in thought. 

' _We were never given namesss, sssissster-head,_ ' said the brother-head, ' _but I can imagine us having them. Let me be Conssstantine from now on, and you can be ... Blanche._ ' The newly christened Constantine seemed to smile in contentment and returned to his slumber. 

' _There you go, Harry,_ ' said the sister-head, ' _you may call me Blanche._ ' 

As they turned the next corner Harry bumped into Viktor who was running fast in the other direction. Upon seeing the snake Viktor raised his wand. Likewise Blanche raised her head and bared her fangs. 

Harry got between them before either could hurt the other. 

'Stop! This is a friend,' Harry said to Viktor, before repeating the same in Parseltongue to Blanche. 

'You can talk to snakes?' Viktor said suspiciously. 'That is very dark magic.' 

'Dumbledore thinks I got it from Voldemort when he tried to kill me,' said Harry. 

'OK,' said Viktor, nodding in fast acceptance of Harry's answer. 'I vouldn't go that vay if I vas you. There is a big beast that throws fire out at you.' 

To Harry it sounded like one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts had been let loose in the maze, so he followed Viktor, whose robes, Harry noticed were singed, with his snake guardian slithering behind them. At the next fork in the maze Viktor went left and Harry and the snake took the right fork, both champions wishing the other luck. 

As they moved along the path the great serpent suddenly hissed, ' _Wait!_ ' 

Harry turned and looked at the snake. 

' _There is something burrowing beneath us,_ ' said Blanche. ' _I can feel its vibrations._ ' 

Harry stood still, wand at the ready. Suddenly the creature burst out of the ground. It was a Niffler. Harry grabbed it and held it in his arms, stroking it as Hagrid had taught them in their lessons to gain its trust. 

' _You know of this creature?_ ' Blanche hissed. 

' _Yes,_ ' said Harry. ' _It's a Niffler. They go hunting for treasure. I would bet the biggest treasure nearby is the Triwizard Cup at the centre of the maze. I think this Niffler can lead us straight there._ ' Harry brought the Niffler to his face. 'Do you think you can show us to the cup?' he asked it. 'Can you lead the way? Don't go digging though.' 

Harry put the Niffler on the floor and it sniffed at the air, before scurrying down the maze. 

' _Come on,_ ,' Harry said to the snake as he chased after the Niffler. 

As the darkness increased, Harry felt sure he was getting near the heart of the maze. He had to be close now, he had to be ... his heart was racing with the thought that he might win the tournament as he raced after the Niffler, round this corner and the next. he felt incredibly lucky that there had been no obstacles in this section of the maze. And then he saw light ahead. The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away. 

Harry had just broken into a run, when a giant spider sprang into his way. He tripped and dropped his wand and the spider began to bear down upon him. 

Instantly Blanche threw herself at the spider, her brother-head waking to join the attack. They were a tangle of tail and legs. Harry dived for his fallen wand and began to yell 'Stupefy!' but it had no effect on the spider. The spell had hit the spiders gigantic, hairy black body but, for all the good it did, he might a well have thrown a stone at it. 

'Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!' 

But it was no use the spider was either so large, or so magical, that the spells were doing no more than aggravating. Harry had a horrifying glimpse of the razor-sharp pincers slashing at his serpent friend. 

Suddenly another voice joined Harry's. 

'Stupefy!' they cried together. 

The two spells combined did what one alone had not - the spider strew the path with a tangle of hairy legs. As it lay motionless Constantine and Blanche began tearing it apart with their fangs. Harry turned away from the horrific sight and covered his ears, the spider seemed to be crying out in pain. Harry saw that Viktor was standing with him. 

'Thanks,' said Harry, 'but why did you help?' 

'Vell, you got here first,' Viktor said, 'and I could see that you ver only helping you friend. You deserve to take the trophy.' 

'That's not how it's supposed to work,' Harry said. 'You should have just taken it when I was fighting the spider.' 

'But that vould not haff felt right,' Viktor said. 'You are the youngest champion, and you didn't even vant to compete. But you beat the dragon brilliantly, you ver so selfless in the lake and even now you managed to get through the maze and to the centre first. You vould be champion already if you hadn't had stopped to help the snake.' 

'Stop being stupid,' said Harry irritably. 'I had more time than you, so technically if we had got in to the maze together you would have beaten me!' 

'Maybe, but you deserved your head start by getting more points than me in the other tasks.' 

'You won't take no for an answer will you?' said Harry. Viktor shook his head and stepped back to allow Harry to take the Cup unimpeded. 

'What if we touch it together then?' said Harry. 'The whole point of this is to bring our schools closer together. What better way to do that than a Durmstrang-Hogwarts joint win?' 

Viktor narrowed his brown as he thought about this idea, before giving a single, strong nod. 'OK, I vill accept these terms.' 

They shook hands and moved to the Cup. When they had reached it, they both held out a hand over one of the Cups gleaning handles. 

'On three, right?' said Harry 'One - two - three!' 

Harry grasped his handle and instantly felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onwards, in a howl of wind and swirling colour. 


	63. The Graveyard

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground. As he struggled to stay upright his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head. Viktor was no where to be seen. He must not have touched the cup, allowing Harry to win. But Harry didn't feel like he had won just yet. It seemed one more task was at hand.

He had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; he had obviously travelled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. He was standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to his right. A hill rose above him to his left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

He hadn't expected the Cup to be a Portkey. He looked around the graveyard. It was completely silent, and slightly eerie.

Harry pulled out his wand, staying wary of his surroundings. He kept looking around him. He had a strange feeling that he was being watched. Suddenly he heard movement. Someone - or something - was coming towards him.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, he watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily towards them between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face; but from the way it was walking, and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever they were, they were short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over their head to obscure their face. And - several paces nearer, the space between them closing all the time - he saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby ... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly. The figure stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Harry and the short figure simply looked at each other.

And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled, he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all, his head was about to split open. 

The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry towards the marble headstone. Harry saw the name upon it flickering in the wand-light before he was forced around and slammed against it.

TOM RIDDLE

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Ham tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him - hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. And Harry realised who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.

'You!' he gasped.

But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply, he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, fumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into Harry's mouth; then, without a word, he turned from Ham and hurried away. Harry couldn't make a sound, nor could be see where Wormtail had gone; he couldn't turn his head to see beyond the headstone, he could see only what was right in front of him.

The Triwizard Cup lay some twenty feet away, Harry's wand was not much closer. The bundle of robes that Harry had thought was a baby was close by at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully; Harry watched it, and his scar seared with pain again ... and he suddenly knew that he didn't want to see what was in those robes ... he didn't want that bundle opened ...

(GOF 555-565)

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others, and spoke to them.

'Macnair ... destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide ...'

'Thank you, master ... thank you,' murmured Macnair

'And here,' Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures, 'we have Crabbe ... you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?'

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

'Yes, master.'

'We will, master.'

'The same goes for you, Nott,' said Voldemort quietly, as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr Goyle's shadow.

'My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -'

'That will do,' said Voldemort.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people sunding there. 

'And here we have six missing Death Eaters ... two dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return ... he will pay. One, who I believe has left me for ever ... he will be killed, of course ... and two, who remain my most faithful servants, and who have already re-entered my service.' 

The Death Eaters stirred, Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at each other through their masks. 'One is at Hogwarts, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived tonight ...

'Yes,' said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth, as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. 'Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honour.'

There was a silence. Then the Death Eater to the right of Wormtail stepped forward, and Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask.

(GOF 566-571)

Wormtail approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own weight before the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his new silver hand, pulled out the material gagging Harry and then with one swipe, cut the the bonds tying Harry to the gravestone

Harry jumped off the overgrown grave and ran through a gap in the Death Eaters as they closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around Voldemort that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled. Harry found his wand and grabbed in just in time as a spell was sent his way. Harry dodged behind a gravestone as the spell hit the ground where he had picked up his wand, causing earth to explode.

'Leave him!' came Voldemort's cold voice. 'He is mine. You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?' He asked softly, walking towards Harry's hiding spot. The Death Eaters had them surrounded. Voldemort's red eyes glinting through the darkness.

The only duel Harry had been in previously was against Nott at the start of the year, and he has been too late to stop his attack on Hermione. That time he had used the disarming work, Expelliarmus, but he didn't know what use would it be, even if he could deprive Voldemort of his wand, when he was surrounded by Death Eaters, outnumbered by a least thirty to one? He had ever learnt anything that could possibly or him for this. He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody had always warned ... the unblockable Avada Kedavra curse ... and Voldemort was right - his mother was not here to die for him ... he was quite unprotected.

'We bow to each other, Harry,' said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snake-like face upturned to Harry. 'Come, the niceties must be observed ... Dumbledore would like you to show manners ... bow to death, Harry ...'

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort's lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing him ... he was not going to give him that satisfaction ...

'I said bow,' Voldemort said, raising his wand - and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand was bending him ruthlessly forwards, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

'Very good,' said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand, the pressure bearing down upon Harry lifted too. 'And now you face me, like a man ... straight backed and proud, the way your father died ...

'And now - we duel.'

Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself, before he could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was ... white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life.

And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet; he was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off, he staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him away, back towards Voldemort.

'A little break,' said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, 'a little pause ... that hurt, didn't it, Harry? You don't want the to do that again, do you?' Harry didn't answer. He was going to die, those pitiless red eyes were telling him so ... he was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it ... but he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort ... he wasn't going to beg ...

'I asked you whether you want me in do that again?' said Voldemort softly. 'Answer me! Imperio!' 

And Harry felt the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought ... ah, it was bliss not to think, it was as though he was floating, dreaming ... _just answer 'no' ... say 'no' ... just answer 'no' ..._

I will not, said a stronger voice in the back of his head. I won't answer.

_Just answer 'no' ..._

I won't do it, I won't say it ...

_Just answer 'no' ..._

'I WON'T!'

And these words burst from Harry's mouth, they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him - back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus curse had left all over his body - back rushed the realisation of where he was, and what he was facing.

"You won't?' said Voldemort quietly, and the Deathly Eaten were not laughing now. 'You won't say "no"? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die ... perhaps another little dose of pain?'

Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was ready with the reflexes born of his Quidditch training, he flung himself onto the ground; he rolled behind the headstone he had hidden behind before, and he heard it crack as the curse missed him.

'We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry' said Voldemort's soft cold voice, drawing nearer, as the Death Eaters laughed. 'You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry ... come out and play, then it will be quick ... it might even be painless ...I would not know ... I have never died.

Harry crouched behind the headstone, and knew the end had come. There was no hope ... no help to be had. And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only and it was beyond fear or reason - he was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going keeling at Voldemort's feet ... he was going to die like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defence was possible ...

Before Voldemort could stick his snake-like face around the headstone, Harry had stood up he gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort.

Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, 'Expelliarmus', Voldemort cried, 'Avada Kedavra!'

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry - they met in mid-air - and suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge was surging through it, his hand had seized up around it, he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to and a narrow beam of light was now connecting the two wands, neither red not green. but bright, deep gold - and Harry, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers, too, were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.

And then - nothing could have prepared Harry for this-he felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They were gliding away from the Death Eaters, and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves ...

The Death Eaters were shouting, they were asking Voldemort for instructions they were closing in, re-forming the circle around Harry and Voldemort, the snake slithering at their heels, some of them drawing their wands - 

The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered: though the wands remained connected, a thousand more offshoots arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now ...

'Do nothing!' Voldemon shrieked to the Death Eaters. Harry saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light connecting his wand with Harry's. Harry held onto his more tightly, with both hands and the golden thread remained unbroken. 'Do nothing unless I command you!' Volden shouted to the Death Eaters.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air. It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Voldemort. It was a sound Harry recognised, though he had heard it only once before in his life ... phoenix song ...

It was the sound of hope to Harry ... the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in his life ... he felt as though the song was inside him instead of just around him ... it was the sound he connected with Dumbledore, and it was almost as though a friend was speaking in his ear ...

_Don't break the connection._

I know, Harry told the music, I know I mustn't ... but no sooner had he thought it than the thing became much harder to do. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever and now the beam between him and Voldemort changed too ... it was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands - Harry felt his wand give a shudder under his hand, as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way ... the direction of the beams movement was now towards him, from Voldemort, and he felt his wand shudder angrily ...

As the nearest bead of light moved nearer to Harry's wand, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flames. The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry's wand vibrated; he was sure his wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers -

He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead backwards towards Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixated ... and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly they began to move the other way ... and it was Voldemort's wand that was vibrating extra hard now ... Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful ...

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemorts wand. Harry didn't understand why he was doing it, didn't know what it might achieve, but he now concentrated as he had never done in his life, on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort wand ... and slowly ... very slowly ... it moved along the golden thread ... it trembled for a moment ... and then it connected ... 

At once, Voldemort's wand began to emit echoing screams of pain ... then - Voldemort's red eyes widened with shock - a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished ... the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail ... more shouts of pain ... and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort's wand tip, a great, greyish something that looked as though it was made of the solidest, densest smoke it was a head ... now a chest and arms ... the torso of an old man ... the old man Harry had seen in his dream, almost a year ago now ... 

If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock it would have been then, but instinct kep him clutching his wand tightly so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even though the the ghost of the old man (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in as entirety from the end of Voldemort's wand, as though it was squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel ... and this shade of the old man stood up and looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

'He was a real wizard, then?' the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. Its voice was distant and echoing. Harry looked Voldemort his wide, red eyes were still shocked he had no more expected this than Harry had and, very dimly, Harry heard the frightened yells of the Death Eaters prowling around the edges of the golden dome ...

'Killed me, that one did,' the old man said. 'You fight him, boy.'

Another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand, this time it was a woman's. Harry, both arms shaking now, as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up next to the old man. The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

'Don't let go, now!' she cried, her voice echoing like the old man's, as though from very far away. 'Don't let him get you, Harry - don't let go!'

She and the other shadowy figure began to place around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it ... and Voldemorts dead victims whispered as they circled the duellers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words Harry couldn't hear to Voldemort. 

And now a third head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand ... and Harry knew when he saw it who it would be ... he knew as though he had expected it from the moment when the old man had appeared from the wand ... knew because the woman appearing was the one he'd thought of more than any other tonight.

The smoky shadow of a young woman with long hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at him ... and Harry, his arms shaking madly now looked back into the ghostly face of his mother.

'Your father's coming,' she said quietly. 'He wants to see you ... it will be all right ... hold on ...'

And he came ... first his head, then his body ... tall and utidy-haired like Harry, the smoky, shadowy form of James Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like his wife. He walked close to Harry, looking down at him, and he spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear.

'When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments but we will give you time ... you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts ... do you understand, Harry?'

'Yes!' Harry gasped; fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

'Do it now,' whispered his father's voice. 'Be ready to run ... do it now ... 

'NOW!' Harry yelled; he didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway - he pulled his wand upwards with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze -

And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed, he zig-zagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing the hit the headstones - he was dodging curses and graves, pelting towards the Triwizard Cup, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do -

'Stun him!' he heard Voldemort scream.

Ten feet from the Cup, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shutters the spells hit it. Gripping his wand more tightly, he dashed on from behind the angel -

'Impedimenta!' he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him.

From a muffled yell, he thought he had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to turn and look - he jumped onto the Cup ... he heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment as he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and colour ... he was going back ...


	64. Veritaserum

Harry felt himself slam flat into the ground, his face was pressed into grass; the smell of it filled his nostrils. He had closed his eyes while the Portkey transported him, and he kept them closed now. He did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of him; his head was swimming to badly he felt as though the ground beneath him was swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold himself steady, he tightened his hold on the Triwizard Cup. He felt as though he would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain if he let it go. Shock and exhaustion kept him on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting waiting for someone to do something ... something to happen ... and all the while, his scar burnt dully on his forehead ...

A torrent of sound deafened and confused him, there were voices everywhere, footsteps ... he remained where he was, his face screwed up against the noise, as though it was a nightmare that would pass ... Then a pair of hands seized him roughly and turned him over.

'Harry! Harry!'

He opened his eyes.

He was looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over him. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer, Harry felt the ground beneath his head reverberating with their footsteps. He had come back to the edge of the maze. He could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

Harry released the Cup and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.

'He's back,' Harry whispered. 'He's back. Voldemort.'

Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer. 

'It's OK, Harry,' he said, placing his hand on his shoulder. 'You're safe now - he can't hurt you here.'

'HARRY!' yelled a voice in the crowd. 'LET ME THROUGH! THAT IS MY GODSON! HARRY! HARRY!'

Sirius had pushed his way through to Harry and fell to the floor beside him, pulling him in close, and holding him tightly.

'Thank Merlin you're all right, Harry,' he said in relief. 'What happened?'

'Sirius,' said Dumbledore calmly. 'Give Harry a moment, he's in shock. Allow him time to process what he has seen.'

The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on him - 'What's happened?' 'What's wrong with him?'

'Stand back, stand back,' came a stern voice. Barty Crouch was attempting to disperse the crowd.

Remus too had made it through the gathering students and was by Harry's side.

'Ah, Remus,' said Dumbledore, 'I need you to send a message to the Minister of Magic immediately. Tell him to come to Hogwarts right away. Voldemort has risen once more.'

'Voldemort?' said Sirius worriedly, looking at Harry.

'No, it can't be,' said Remus.

'I'm afraid so,' said Dumbledore. 'Now I must insist you send for the Minister immediately.'

'Of, course,' said Remus and he made his way back through the crowds to do as Dumbledore had instructed.

'Voldemort is back?' asked Crouch. Unlike everyone else he didn't sound concerned, more curious.

'That is what Harry tells me,' said Dumbledore. 'I see no reason he has to lie. I trust you will remain here with Ludo whilst we await the Minister and clear everything up that happened here.'

'Well, I must get back to the office soon,' said Mr Crouch. 'You know I wasn't planning on staying to late tonight, there is much to do, still ...'

'It wasn't a request, Barty,' said Dumbledore sternly, before turning to Harry. 'Can you stand, Harry. I think it would be pertinent to get you inside, away from prying eyes.'

Harry nodded and got to his feet. Clutching Sirius for support he followed Dumbledore and Mr Crouch towards the castle.

As they crossed the grounds, Mrs Weasley and Professor McGonagall made their way to their group.

'What's going on?' said Mrs Weasley frantically. 'What happened? Is Harry all right?'

'Molly, please remain calm,' said Dumbledore. 'Harry is going to be OK, but I need you not to fuss. Please find your children and Harry's other friends. Let them know he will be all right.'

Mrs Weasley did as she was told and returned to the crowds.

'Minerva, please ask Filius and Pomona to lead the other teachers in reassuring the students. I would like Alastor, Ludo and yourself to join me in my office immediately.'

Harry allowed Sirius to steer him into the castle and up to Dumbledore's office, Barty Crouch with them the whole time.

Upon reaching the office Dumbledore drew up a semi-circle of chairs around his desk, and Harry sat himself down in one. There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Harry's knee. He stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet and gold plumage. There was something comforting about his warm weight 

'What happened, Harry?' Crouch asked in a low whisper when Sirius when to talk with Dumbledore.

'Cup was a Portkey,' said Harry. 'Took me to a graveyard ... Lord Voldemort was there ...'

'The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?'

'He made a potion ... got his body back ...'

'The Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?' 

'And the Death Eaters came ... and then we duelled ...'

'You duelled with the Dark Lord?'

'Barty,' said Dumbledore, cutting through their conversation. I feel it is best we let Harry tell his story once everyone is here. He doesn't need to relive it over and over now, does he?'

'Of course not, Dumbledore,' said Crouch. 'I just thought I might hear what had happened before I head back to the Ministry. As I said, I've a lot to do, so must really be on my way.'

'You'll stay if the Headmaster asked you to,' growled a voice from the office door. Harry turned to see Professor Moody stood there, Bagman, Remus and McGonagall with him.

Bagman made his way to the seat on Harry's other side and said, 'Harry I'm so glad you're all right! Goodness we were worried when you disappeared! And may I add, congratulations on winning!'

As the minutes passed by, Harry felt like he was in a dream where time had no meaning. Voldemort was back. 

Sirius was flipping between looking somewhat angrily at Dumbledore and making sure Harry was still OK; Bagman was pacing the room, somewhat nervously; Remus and McGonagall were deep in concerned conversation; Dumbledore sat at his desk patiently; Moody was stood at a silent vigil by the door; and Crouch kept looking at his pocket watch, and tutting.

'Dumbledore I really must insist,' he said after about half an hour had passed.

'I'm sure Fudge will be here momentarily,' said Dumbledore. 'Remus, I assume you mentioned the urgency with which we required his assurance?'

'Yes, Professor Dumbledore,' replied Remus. 'I sent my Patronus with a message to come as quickly as he could.'

'There you go, Barty,' said Dumbledore. 'I'm sure he won't be much longer now.'

But Mr Crouch wouldn't wait any longer and stood from his chair, striding across to the office door.

'Let me pass, Alastor,' he said to Moody.

'Dumbledore wants you to stay, Barty,' Moody growled. 'Sit back down.'

Crouch tried to get past Moody, but Moody was steadfast in his mission to not let him past and he knocked Crouch to the floor.

'Ohoho,' Moody said. 'Now I see why you were so keen to get out.'

At first Harry wasn't sure what Moody meant.

Then, before Harry's very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The skin was becoming smoother; his short grey hair lengthened and turned the colour of straw. He was now pale-skinned and slightly freckled, and though he had lines around the eyes, he was clearly much younger than Barty Crouch was. But who this man was, Harry didn't have a clue, but from the gasps around the room, the adults recognised who this was.

'Polyjuice Potion,' said Moody. 'Very clever Barty.' Moody flicked his wand and ropes bound the man on the floor.

At that moment the door flew open as Cornelius Fudge burst into the office.

'What was so important, Dumbledore, that it couldn't wait until - Good Lord! That's Barty Crouch Jr. What on earth is he doing here? I thought he was dead!'

Barty Crouch Jr - this was the son who Crouch Sr had put in Azkaban ... one of the men who had tortured Neville's parents ...

'As did we all, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore. 'Alastor, I believe you have something that will help us get to the bottom of this?'

'Of course, Professor,' said Moody as he reached into his robes and pulled out a small vial of clear liquid, a few drops of which he forced down Barry Crouch Jr's throat. This must be Veritaserum, Harry thought.

'Now then Barty,' said Dumbledore softly, 'I would first like you to tell us how you come to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?' 

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice. 'My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favour to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draught of Polyjuice Potion, containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draught of Polyjuice Potion, containing one of my hairs. We took on each other appearance.'

Crouch took another deep breath, and continued in the same flat voice, 'The Dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.

'My mother died a short while afterwards in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name, and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me.'

'I remember them burying you,' said Sirius hollowly. 'To think it was your mother ...'

'And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?' said Dumbledore quietly.

'Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master ... of returning to his service.'

'How did your father subdue you?' said Dumbledore.

'The Imperius Curse,' Crouch said, 'I was under my father's control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and carer. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behaviour.

'Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?' said Dumbledore softly. 'Did anyone know except your father, and the house-elf?'

'Yes,' said Crouch, his eyelids flickering. 'A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house, with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently.' 

'Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup,' said Dumbledore.

'Winky talked my father into it,' said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. 'She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. "Let him go," she said. "He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once." She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.

'It was carefully planned. My father led myself and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge; Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know ...

'But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw a wand sticking from a boy's pocket in front of me. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know, Winky is frightened of heights, She had her face hidden.'

'So you took the wand,' said Dumbledore, 'and what did you do with it?'

'We went back to the tent,' said Crouch. 'Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were no enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent, he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me se angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. The wand was sprung from my possession, Winky clung to it tightly, not wanting me to get into trouble, but it was returned to the owner. We hid nearby and as luck would have it the wand was flung back towards me. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky. Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells every where. One of the Spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned.

'When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found, and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse, and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape. 

'Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then ... and then ...' Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane gin spread across his face. 'My master came for me. He arrived at our house late one night, in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door.'

The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life. 'It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.'

'And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?' said Dumbledore. 

'He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the Cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. At first we were going to use Moody himself, but his eye cannot see through the Polyjuice Potion.'

His eyes were blazing now, though his voice remained calm.

'And who better for me to be than the man in charge of Triwizard Tournament itself? It's not as though Bagman would notice the difference anyway. And after years under his control, I knew my father better than anyone else. I knew his mannerisms, his habits ... we kept him alive, under the Imperius curse, in his own basement, I still needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion, after all.'

'And what became of Wormtail after you replaced your father?' said Dumbledore, 'Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father, when I took his place at the Ministry or at Hogwarts.'

'And then tonight ...' Dumbledore said.

'Tonight, as part of my duty as organiser, and as part of my duty to the Dark Lord I carried the Triwizard Cup into the maze,' whispered Barty Crouch. 'Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honoured by him beyond the dreams of wizards.'

'Back?' said Fudge suddenly, 'What do you mean back?'

'Potter told me that he has risen once more,' said Crouch.

At this everyone turned to look at Harry.

'It's true,' Harry confirmed.

'Tell us what happened, Harry,' said Dumbledore gently. There seemed to be a sorrow in his eyes, Harry thought. 'When you touched the Cup, where did you go?'

'It was a graveyard,' said Harry. 'I was tied to the headstone of Voldemort's father ... Wormtail took my blood ... a bone from Voldemort's father's grave ... and cut off his own hand ... and then Voldemort was there ... he's back ...'

'Wormtail took your blood?' said Sirius angrily. 'Why would he do that?'

Harry looked at Dumbledore when he answered, 'He told me it had to be mine. That my blood would make him stronger than if he used someone else's. He said the protection my - my mother gave me - that he'd have it too. And he was right - he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face.'

For a fleeting instant, Harry thought he saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. But next second, Harry was sure he had imagined it, for Dumbledore now looked as old and weary as Harry had ever seen him.

'Very well,' he said. 'Voldemort has over come that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please.'

Harry told them all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. Then he told how Voldemort had untied him, how he'd ran for his wand, and how they had prepared to duel. But when he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected his and Voldemort's wands, he found his throat obstructed. He tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into his mind. He could see the old man emerging, Bertha Jorkins ... his mother ... his father... 

It was Fudge who broke the silence.

'This is preposterous, Dumbledore!' he exclaimed. 'You can't honestly believe this, can you? Voldemort back, connecting wands? I mean -'

'Priori Incantatem,' Dumbledore muttered.

His eyes gazed into Harry's and it was almost as though an visible beam of understanding shot between them.

'The reverse spell effect?' said Fudge. 'What's that got to do with anything?'

'Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand share cores,' explained Dumbledore. 'Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact,' he added, and he pointed at the scarlet and gold bird, perching peacefully on Harry's knee.

'My wand's feather came from Fawkes?' Harry said, amazed.

'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'Mr Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago.'

'So what happens when a wand meets its brother?' said Sirius.

'They will not work properly against each other,' said Dumbledore. 'If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle, a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first ... and then those which preceded it ...'

He looked interrogatively at Harry, and Harry nodded.

'Which means,' said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Harry's face, 'that some form of Bertha Jorkins must have reappeared.' Harry nodded again.

'She came back to life?' said Sirius sharply.

'No spell can reawaken the dead,' said Dumbledore heavily. 'What would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Bertha would have emerged from the wand ... am I correct, Harry?'

'She spoke to me,' Harry said. He was suddenly shaking again. 'The ... the ghost Bertha, or whatever she was, spoke.'

'An echo,' said Dumbledore, 'which retained Bertha's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared as well ...'

'An old man,' Harry said, his throat still constricted. 'And ...'

'Your parents?' said Dumbledore quietly.

'Yes,' said Harry.

Sirius' grip on Harry's shoulder was now so tight it was painful.

'The last murders the wand performed,' said Dumbledore nodding. 'In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry these echoes, these shadows ... what did they do?'

Harry described how the figures which had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's father had told him what to do.

At this point, Harry found he could not continue. He looked around at Sirius, and saw that he had his face in his hands.

'You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it and you have now given us all that we have right to expect.'

'This is nonsense, Dumbledore!' said Fudge irately. 'Don't tell me you believe this codswallop!'

'How can you deny it, Cornelius?' Dumbledore asked. 'We both saw Wormtail's return and escape last year. You have heard Barty Crouch Jr's confession under Veritaserum. There can be no doubt that Voldemort is back.'

'But all the Death Eaters are in Azkaban!' Fudge argued.

'Not all of them,' Sirius snarled darkly.

'Did you hear any names, Harry?' Remus said gently, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder.

'Er, yeah, Lucius Malfoy -'

'Malfoy was cleared!' said Fudge, visibly affronted. 'A very old family - donations to excellent causes -'

'Macnair!' Harry continued.

'Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!'

'Nott - Crabbe - Goyle - Avery!'

'You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!' said Fudge angrily. 'You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore, Voldemort is gone! We cannot have the public worry about a boogeyman, a figment a teenager's overactive imagination.'

'How dare you talk about Harry like that?' roared Sirius. Remus attempted to hold him back, as Cornelius stumbled backwards into Moody.

'I think it's time you left, Minister,' Moody growled, opening the door of the office for him.

'Well, what about Crouch?' Fudge asked.

'Oh don't worry,' said Moody, 'I'll look after him. You're not taking him anywhere.' 

For a moment Fudge looked like he was about to argue, but instead hurried out of the office, clutching his bowler hat.

'Alastor, Remus, may I ask you to keep an eye on Crouch whilst I escort Harry to the hospital wing?' said Dumbledore. 

The two men affirmed they would, and Dumbledore turned to Harry. 'I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace. Sirius, would you like to stay with him?' Sirius nodded.

'Minerva, could I ask you to fetch Hagrid back here for me please, I wish to speak to him. Madame Maxime too, if she would consent to it.'

McGonagall nodded, stony faced and left the office to fulfil her duty immediately.

'Ludo,' Dumbledore said, turning to the remaining Ministry member. He looked a shadow of his usual self, white and shrunken in his chair. He looked up at Dumbledore with fearful eyes, the shock of Voldemort's return unbearable for him. 'I trust I can count on you to confirm what happened here tonight when the occasion arises?'

Bagman nodded slowly.

'Very well,' Dumbledore said, leaving his desk. 'Shall we go Harry.

Harry, Dumbledore and Sirius left the office for the hospital wing. When Dumbledore pushed open the door, Harry saw Mrs Weasley, Bill, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny grouped around a harassed looking Madam Pomfrey. They appeared to be demanding to know where Harry was and what had happened to him.

All of them whipped around as Harry, Dumbledore and Sirius entered, and Mrs Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream. 'Harry! Oh, Harry!'

She started to hurry towards him, but Dumbledore moved between them.

'Molly,' he said, holding up a hand, please listen to me for a moment. 'Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him,' he added, looking around at Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Bill, too, 'you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening.'

Mrs Weasley nodded. She was very white.

She rounded on Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, 'Did you hear? He needs quiet!'

'Harry,' said Dumbledore, 'I will wait while you get into bed.'

Harry felt an inexpressible sense of gratitude to Dumbledore asking the others not to question him. It wasn't as though he didn't want them there, but the thought of explaining it all over again, the idea of reliving it one more time, was more than he could stand.

Madam Pomfrey led Harry to his bed gave Harry some pyjamas and pulling screens around him. He took off his robes pulled on the pyjamas and got into bed. 

'I need to talk with the head of Magical Law Enforcement now,' said Dumbledore, 'there is much to sort out. I would like you to remain here tomorrow, Harry, until I have spoken to the school.' He left. 

Madam Pomfrey went to her own office, and everyone else, around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of him. Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny were looking at him almost cautiously, as though scared of him.

'I'm all right,' he told them. 'Just tired.'

Mrs Weasley's eyes filled with tears as she smoothed his bed covers unnecessarily. Madam Pomfrey returned holding a goblet and a small bottle of some purple potion. 'You'll need to drink all of this, Harry,' she said. 'It's a potion for dreamless sleep.'

Harry took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. He fell himself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around his became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to winking at him in a friendly way through the screen around his bed, his body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather mattress. Before he could finish the Potion, before he could say another word, his exhaustion had carried him off to sleep.


	65. The Beginning

Harry slept soundly for almost a full day. Sirius wasn't there when he woke up, but he had left Harry a note.

_Harry,_

_I've had to do something for Dumbledore, but I promise we'll talk soon - and I will see you over the summer._

_Sirius_

He returned to Gryffindor Tower the following evening. From what Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny had told him, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Harry alone, that nobody ask him questions or badger him to tell the story of what had happened in the maze.

Most people, he noticed, were skirting him in the corridors, avoiding his eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as he passed. He found he didn't care very much. He liked it best when he was with Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny and they were talking about other things, or else letting him sit in silence while they played chess. He felt as though all five of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain. The only time they touched upon the subject was when Ron told Harry about a meeting Mrs Weasley had had with Dumbledore before going home.

'She went to ask him if you could come straight to us this summer,' he said. 'But he wants you to go back to the Dursleys. At least at first.'

'Why?' said Harry.

'She said Dumbledore's got his reasons,' said Ron, shaking his head darkly. 'I suppose we've got to trust him, haven't we?' 

The only person at Hogwarts, apart from these four, that Harry felt able to talk to was Hagrid. Moody had gone back to the Auror office to help them deal with Barry Crouch Jr, so they now had Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons free. They used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit him in his cabin. It was a bright and sunny day. Fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly.

'Who's that?' called Hagrid, coming to the door. 'Harry!' He strode out to meet them, pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, ruffled his hair and said, 'Good ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh.'

They saw two bucket-sized cups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fireplace when they entered Hagrid's cabin. 

'Bin havin' a cuppa with Olympe,' Hagrid said, 'she's just left.'

'Who?' said Ron, curiously

'Madame Maxime, o' course!' said Hagrid 

'You two made it up, have you?' said Ron

'Dunno what yeh're talkin' about,' said Hagrid airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When he had made tea, and offered round a plate of doughy biscuits, he leant back in his chair and surveyed Harry closely through his beetle-black eyes.

'You all right?' he said gruffly.

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'No, yeh're not,' said Hagrid. 'Course yeh're not. But yeh will be.' 

Harry said nothing. 

'Knew he was goin' ter come back,' said Hagrid, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville looked up at him, shocked. 'Known it fer years, Harry. Knew he was out there, bidin' his time ... it had ter happen. Well, now it has, and we'll just have ter get on with it We'll fight. Might be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledore's plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. S'long as we've got him, I'm not too worried.' 

Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows at the disbelieving expressions on their faces. 'No good sittin' worryin' abou' it,' he said. 'What's coming will come, an' we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me what you did, Harry.' Hagrid's chest swelled as he looked at Harry 'Yeh did as much as yet father would've done, an' I can give yeh no higher praise than that.' 

Harry smiled back at him. It was the first time he'd smiled in days.

'What's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?' he asked. 'He told Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madame Maxime to meet him that night.'

'Got a little job fer me over the summer,' said Hagrid. 'Secret, though. I'm not s'posed ter talk abou' it, not even ter you lo'. Olympe - Madame Maxime ter you - might be comin' with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded.'

'Is it to do with Voldemort?'

Hagrid flinched at the sound of the name.

'Migh' be,' he said evasively. 'Now ... who'd like ter come an visit the las' Skrewt with me? I was jokin' - jokin'!' he added hastily, seeing the looks on their faces.

At dinner that evening Ron nudged Hermione and pointed to the staff table.

'Black's back,' he said.

'When was he away?' asked Harry.

'Oh, I can't believe we haven't told you ...' said Hermione. 'Well ... with everything that's been going on ...'

'Obviously we were looking for Rita on the Map on the night of the third task,' said Ron quietly. 'But we noticed that Professor Black was no where to be seen on the map - not even in the castle!'

'So where was he?' said Hermione. 'What was he doing?'

'You don't think - you don't think he was at the graveyard that night, do you Harry?' asked Ginny.

'Might have been,' said Harry dully. 'I heard some names that night, but his wasn't mentioned ...'

'Do you think Dumbledore knows he was missing?' said Ron.

'Did Sirius know?' asked Harry.

'Yeah,' said Hermione, 'he was the one who noticed it.'

'Then Dumbledore knows,' said Harry. 'I think they were talking about it in his office that night. What about Rita, did you find her.'

'Well ... yeah, we did ...' said Hermione looking awkwardly at Neville.

'Do you want to tell Harry what happened, Nev?' asked Ron with a smile.

Neville shrunk back in his seat and shook his head.

'After you'd disappeared we notice that Rita was suddenly in the centre of the maze next to Viktor,' said Ginny. 'She was there before even Moody had blasted his way through the hedges.'

'They were keeping students out, so we couldn't get to her,' said Hermione sternly. She kept frowning at Ron for smirking so much. 

'But the other night we noticed a Beetle on the end of your bedpost in the hospital wing,' said Ron. 'Hermione, in a stroke of genius noticed that it was the same beetle that was in her hair by the lake on the second task. Rita's an animagi!'

Suddenly everything made sense. No wonder she could overhear private conversations without being noticed.

'So what happened then?' Harry asked.

'Well Hermione pulled out the Map to confirm it,' said Ginny. 'Sure enough, Rita was in the room. So, Hermione stupefied her,' said Ginny.

'Brilliant,' said Harry. 'So where is she now?'

'Well,' said Ron, barely able to suppress his laughter, 'the true hero of this story isn't any of us ... it's Trevor ...'

Harry turned to look at Neville, who was holding his pet toad firmly in his hands. Neville met Harry's eyes and looked like he was about to burst into tears.

'Trevor ate her,' he said softly.

Harry felt a sense of shock for a moment. He had never liked Rita, but he didn't think she deserved to have died, especially not like that.

Ron must have noticed the look on Harry's face because he said, 'Serves her right for sneaking around like that. At least she died doing what she loved though!'

Harry couldn't help but laugh at this. As he did, a huge wave of catharsis rushed over him. Voldemort was back, but he still had the people he loved most with him.

At that moment Viktor came over to their table.

'Can I haff a vord?' he asked Harry.

'Er, yeah, sure,' Harry said, getting up from the table and following Viktor to the edge of the Great Hall.

'So, Voldemort is back?' Viktor said, his eyebrows knitted closely together.'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'I'm sorry,' said Viktor. 'Sorry I didn't take hold of the cup viv you. If I had you vouldn't haff had to deal viv him alone. I just thought you deserved to vin.'

'Don't worry about it,' said Harry, smiling. 'Who knows what would have happened. They might have killed you straight away so there were no witnesses, but there's no way we could have taken them all on together. It was me he wanted, no one else.'

Viktor nodded sternly, just once.

'Thank you for saying that.'

He turned away and returned to his fellow Durmstrang students. Harry went back to his friends at Gryffindor table.

*

When Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny entered the Great Hall. Tonight, the insignias of each of the schools draped behind the staff table. The double headed eagle of Durmstrang on the left, the crossed wands of Beauxbatons on the right, and in the centre, larger than the other two was the crest of Hogwarts, the four house animals moving around their quadrant. Around the Hall itself were the house colours.

Moody's was not the only chair that was vacant; Professor Karkaroff was also missing from the top table. Harry wondered, as he sat down with the other Gryffindors, where Karkaroff was now, whether Voldemort had caught up with him.

Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, Harry noticed that Bagman was back at Hogwarts, chatting excitedly with Professor Vector. Sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Black. His eyes lingered a moment as Harry looked at him. His expression was difficult to read. Where had he been the night that Voldemort had returned? And why was Dumbledore so convinced that Black was truly on their side, when even Sirius, his own brother, remained unconvinced?

Harry's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall became very quiet

'The end,' said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, 'of another year.'

He paused, and his eyes surveyed the Hall.

'Firstly I would like to congratulate all students who participated in the Triwizard Tournament this year, for winning I would like to offer Mr Harry Potter one hundred and fifty points for his victory -' there were loud cheers from the Gryffindor table. 'I would also think it is only fair that I give Cedric one hundred points for the perseverance if a true Hufflepuff he showed throughout all tasks he undertook, as well.' This time the cheers came from the Hufflepuff table. Harry gave Cedric a thumbs up when he looked over, grinning.

'Which means, it is my great honour to announce that this year's winner of the House Championship is ... Hufflepuff!'

If Harry had thought the cheers before had been loud they were nothing compared to this. Hufflepuff hadn't won anything in centuries, yet here they were, House Champions. Harry joined in the applause with his fellow Gryffindors, along with the Ravenclaws. Even the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students joined in politely, only the Slytherins refrained. All the banners on the side of the room had changed to Hufflepuff yellow to reflect their win.

Once the chants of Cedric's name had died down, Dumbledore addressed the Hall again.

'Yes, well done Hufflepuff,' he said. 'Now then, if our four champions could make there way up here, I think everyone would like to applaud your efforts.'

Harry made his way to the staff table, alongside Cedric, where they were joined by Fleur and Viktor. Ludo Bagman had made his way to the front of the staff table.

'Yes, well done, Champions!' he said. 'You each showed daring and ingenuity across all tasks you undertook this year and should all be immensely proud. 

'Miss Fleur Delacour, you showed great resourcefulness in your tasks, showing your proficiency for charms throughout. Unfortunately someone does have to be last, and on this occasion it is you. But please accept this fourth place trophy and our best wishes for your future as you leave school. Remember, you can always count on Ludo Bagman if you ever need a reference!'

There was a light applause as Fleur shook Bagman's hand and accepted her trophy.

'Next we have the hero of Hufflepuff, my own house when I was a lad, y'know. Mr Cedric Diggory, you proved yourself a worthy champion. You never gave gave up, even when the odds were stacked against you - even a near miss with the Blast-Ended Skrewt couldn't stop you pushing through the maze! Please accept our hearty congratulations once more, this third place trophy, and the best of look with you N.E.W.Ts next year. And if you fancy taking up Quidditch full time, give me a word - I'm still held in good stead at the wasps.'

The cheers were much louder than they had been for Fleur. Again there was a huge cacophony from the Hufflepuff table.

'Mr Viktor Krum!' said Bagman as the noise died down. 'Your talent lies not only on the Quidditch pitch, it would seem. You have done your school proud, not only as a competitor, but also as a gentleman. Please proudly accept this second place trophy, and we all wait with eagerness to see how you and Bulgaria fair three years from now at the next World Cup meeting!'

More applause, louder than it had been for Fleur, though not as hearty as Cedric had been given.

'And finally, Mr Harry Potter. Is there nothing you cannot face? Through all three tasks you showed so much courage and resilience, even more than was expected of you at the end there. I present to you the Triwizard Cup, as well as the thousand Galleons of winnings.'

More cheers, again, not quite as loud as for Cedric, but Harry didn't mind. Cedric and Hufflepuff deserved the applause. Harry looked at Gryffindor table where his friends had jumped out of their seats in applause. Fred and George seemed to have set off some indoor fireworks.

'I think we can all agree the the Triwizard Tournament has been a great success,' Bagman continued. Harry couldn't help thinking this was not quite the case; Lord Voldemort had managed to sabotage the final task, after all. Though he supposed that no one had died over the course of this year's tournament, so in the respect it was a success. 'Those of you who are currently in your second and third years of Hogwarts may indeed be holding one of these cups when I'm sure we'll be holding this tournament once more in four years time.'

There was a ripple of excitement through the younger students at the idea of brining such glory to Hogwarts.

'Thank you, Mr Bagman,' said Dumbledore once the champions had taken their seats again. 'Unfortunately it falls to me to darken this happy occasion.'

There was a murmuring that echoed throughout the Hall.

'The Ministry of Magic,' Dumbledore continued, 'does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe what I am about to tell you, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies. When Mr Potter disappeared on the night of the final task, it was because of Lord Voldemort.'

Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned towards Dumbledore now ... or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table, Harry saw Nott muttering something to Pansy Parkinson. Harry felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in his stomach. He forced himself to look back at Dumbledore.

'Harry Potter was taken to Lord Voldemort, but managed to escape once more. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honour him.'

Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry, and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name and drank to him. But, through a gap in the standing figures, Harry saw that Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, 'The Triwizard Tournaments aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemort's return - such ties are more important than ever before!'

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh. 

'Every guest in this Hall,' said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, 'will be welcomed back here, at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.

'Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

'This my belief - and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you, in this Hall, have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. 

'And I hope, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, you make the right choice.

*

Harry's trunk was packed; Hedwig was back in her cage on top of it. He, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Hannah Abbott were waiting in the crowded Entrance Hall with the rest of the fourth-years for the carriages that would take them back to Hogsmeade station. It was another beautiful summer's day. He supposed that Privet Drive would be hot and leafy, its flowerbeds a riot of colour, when he arrived there that evening. The thought gave him no pleasure at all.

"Arry!'

He looked around. Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Beyond her, far across the grounds, Harry could see Hagrid helping Madame Maxime to back to of the giant horses into their harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.

'We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope,' said Fleur, as she reached him, holding out her hand. 'I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish.'

'It's very good already,' said Ron, in a strangled sort of voice.

Fleur smiled at him; Hermione scowled. 

'Goodbye, 'Arry,' said Fleur, turning to go. 'It's been a pleasure meeting you!'

Harry's spirits couldn't help but lift, as he watched Fleur hurry back across the lawns to Madame Maxime, her silvery hair rippling in the sunlight.

'Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back,' said Ron. 'D'you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff.'

'Karkaroff did not steer,' said a gruff voice. 'He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork.' Viktor had come to say goodbye. By his side was Draco.

'Could I have a vord?' Viktor asked Hermione. 

'Oh, yes, all right,' said Hermione, looking slightly flustered, and following Krum through the crowd and out of sight. 

'You'd better hurry up!' Ron called loudly after her. 'The carriages'll be here in a minute!'

He let Harry, Neville and Hannah keep a watch for the carriages, however, and spent the next few minutes craning his neck over the crowd to and see what Krum and Hermione might be up to. 

'Well, good luck next year,' said Harry to Draco. 'I don't suppose we'll see each other for a while.'

'Oh, I'm not going to Durmstrang next year,' said Draco.

'You're not?'

'No ... My mum and dad have split up, and I'm going with mum. So I get to come back to Hogwarts.'

Harry wasn't sure what to say. Draco seemed less tense, but it felt like he had something else on his mind.

'Can we - can we start again?' he asked.

'How do you mean?' said Harry.

'Well,' said Draco, 'we both know I have no friends in Slytherin. And for some reason you have shown me kindness, even though I haven't always deserved it ...'

He trailed off, and turned away, as if embarrassed.

'Sure,' said Harry,' sticking out his hand. 'I'm Harry.'

Draco turned to face him, and gave a small smile.

'Hi Harry,' he said, shaking his hand, 'I'm Draco.'

Viktor and Hermione returned. Ron stared at Hermione, but her face was passive.

'Nice to haff met you, Harry,' Krum said. He held out his hand as Fleur had done, shook Harry's hand, then Neville's, then Ron's, before kissing Hannah on the hand.

'Take care of my little friend here,' Viktor said, ruffling Draco's hair.

Ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. Viktor had already started walking away when Ron burst out, 'Can I have your autograph?' 

Hermione turned away, smiling at the horseless carriages which were now trundling towards them up the drive, as Krum, looking surprised, but gratified, signed a fragment of parchment for Ron.

*

The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to Kings Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn't a single cloud the sky. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Hannah and Draco had managed to get a compartment to themselves, with Ginny finding them when the third years boarded. 

They talked more fully and freely than they had done all week, as the train sped them southwards. Harry felt as though Dumbledore's speech at the Leaving Feast had unblocked him, somehow. It was less painful to discuss what had happened now. They broke off their conversation about what action Dumbledore might be taking even now to stop Voldemort, only when the lunch trolley arrived.

At first the others - Ron in particular - were uneasy about sharing a compartment with Draco. It was not until the late afternoon that their opinion of him changed.

Nott had barged in to their compartment with Crabbe and Goyle following him.

'So it's true,' Nott spat. 'You're a blood traitor too now, Draco. Your father will be most disappointed that your friends with Weasleys and Mudbloods.'

'What's it to you who I'm friends with,' said Draco, standing up. 'I've had enough of you. You're pathetic. You think your special, you think we should be friends because our dads are in a club together, that we shouldn't question what they do.'

Nott laughed. 'I didn't realise they gave away backbones at Durmstrang,' he said.

Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at Nott. Everyone else pulled their own wands out.

'Get out of here, Nott,' said Harry.

'Or what?' said Nott. 'Professor Black's not here to save the chipmunk any more.' As soon as he said this, and pointed his wand at Hermione, there was an explosion of spells.

It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, Harry blinked, and looked down at the floor.

Nott, Crabbe and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. Neville had also been flung off his feet, but was uninjured. He had, however, snapped his wand.

'Oh, no,' he moaned. 'Gran's going to kill me.'

Ron, Harry and Draco kicked, rolled and pushed the unconscious Nott, Crabbe and Goyle - each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit - out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.

'You know what, mate,' Ron said to Draco. 'You might be all right after all.'

They rest of the journey they spent cheering Neville up about his dad's broken wand, though to little effect.

As they reached the outskirts of London, Fred and George made an appearance to see who was responsible for the tangle of bodies in the corridor.

'It's amazing work, I have to say,' said Fred. 'I'm loving Crabbe's pink beard!'

The Hogwarts Express slowed to a halt at platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the students began to disembark. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Hannah and Draco struggled out past Nott, Crabbe and Goyle, carrying their trunks.

Harry, however, stayed put. 'Fred George - wait a moment.'

The twins turned. Harry pulled open his trunk, and drew out his Triwizard winnings. 

'Take it,' he said, and he thrust the sack into George's hands. 

'What?' said Fred, looking flabbergasted.

'Take it,' Harry repeated firmly, 'I don't want it.'

'You're mental,' said George, trying to push it back at Harry.

'No, I'm not,' said Harry. 'You take it, and get inventing. It's for your Weasley Wizarding Weezes.'

'He is mental,' Fred said, in an almost awed voice.

'Listen,' said Harry firmly. 'I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long. And think of it repayment for the Extendable Ear I lost you.'

'Harry' said George weakly, weighing the money bag in his hands, 'there's a thousand Galleons in here ...'

'Yeah,' said Harry, grinning. 'Think how many Canary Creams that is!'

The twins stared at him.

'Just don't tell your mum where you got it ...'

'Harry,' Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand.

'Look,' he said flatly, take it, 'or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favour, OK? Buy Ron some different dress robes, and say they're from you.'

'You're as bad as Sirius you are,' said George.

'What do you mean?' said Harry.

'Well, he's been financing us all year - ever since he found out what we were doing last summer,' said Fred. 'That's how he knew about our Extendable Ears!'

'Yeah, he mentioned something about you two having a business plan. Well, now you've got two investors,' said Harry. 'We'll have to have board meeting sometime.'

Without another word, he stepped over Nott, Crabbe and Goyle, who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks. Uncle Vernon was waiting beyond the barrier. Mrs Weasley was close by him. She hugged Harry very tightly when she saw him, and whispered in his ear, 'I think Dumbledore will let you come to us later in the summer. Keep in touch, Harry.'

'See you, Harry,' said Ron, clapping him on the back.

'Bye, Harry!' said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek.

'Harry - thanks,' George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.

Harry winked at them, turned to Uncle Vernon, and followed him silently from the station. There was no point worrying yet, he told himself, as he got into the back of the Dursleys' car.

As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come ... he would have to meet it when it did.


	66. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix: Dudley Demented

The hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive. Cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green lay parched and yellowing - for the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought.

Deprived of their usual car washing and lawn mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of Privet Drive had retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows thrown wide in the hope of tempting in a non existent breeze. The only person outdoors was a teenage boy who had just closed the door of number four behind him, as he walked into the early evening. 

He was a skinny black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short space of time. His jeans were torn and dirty, his T-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers. Harry Potter's appearance did not endear him to the neighbours, who were the sort of people who thought scrufiness ought to be punishable by law.

Harry's scrufiness went unpunished for one very good reason. Next to him stood a big, black, shaggy dog. This dog was Harry godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius and Harry were both wizards. Sirius himself was an animagus which meant he could turn into an animal form, his form was a massive dog.

Sirius was there for Harry's protection, not that Harry's Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon we're happy having another wizard in the house, Sirius hadn't given them a say in the matter. Last time Sirius had visited he had offered Harry's cousin, Dudley, a toffee which had enlarged his tongue. The Dursleys were still very wary of Sirius after that event.

At Sirius's insistence they had allowed him to stay at number four, and he had been staying in the spare room ever since. The agreement was that Sirius would only ever leave the house in his dog form, as this would mean less questions from the neighbours.

Harry was glad to be able to see his godfather every day, though he wished it didn't have to be at the Dursleys' house. According to Sirius though, Dumbledore was insistent that Harry should stay in Little Whinging for as much of the summer as possible. Another upside was, as Sirius kept reminding his hosts, though Harry couldn't use magic outside of Hogwarts, Sirius could; not that he had yet, though.

At five o'clock each morning Harry's alarm would go off and he would awaken to let in the owl that brought them the Daily Prophet. After paying the owl, and closing his window again, Harry would tiptoe across the landing to Sirius's room where they would pour over the news of the wizarding world.

At the start of summer the big news had been the reappearance of Barty Crouch Jr, the Death Eater who had manipulated Harry into being chosen for the Triwizard Tournament last year, which led Harry to being taken to a graveyard, hundreds of miles from Hogwarts, and to face a newly resurrected Voldemort.

Voldemort was the reason that Harry was living with his Aunt and Uncle. His mother, Lily, and father, James, had died protecting Harry when he was a baby, leaving him an orphan. When Voldemort had tried to kill Harry too the curse had backfired.

At the time many believed that Sirius, who was best friends with Harry's dad, was the person who had betrayed the Potters and had told Voldemort where to find them, but Sirius knew different. He had tracked down the true culprit, another one of his and James's old school friends, an animagus called Wormtail. Wormtail had blown up a street, killing twelve muggles and cutting off his finger in order to fake his own death.

For twelve years Sirius had been caged up in Azkaban prison, until two years ago when he escaped after seeing a picture of Wormtail in the Daily Prophet. He had been hiding as the pet of a wizarding family who had won a competition to visit Egypt and had had their photograph taken to commemorate the event. This family was the Weasleys, and Wormtail was the pet rat known as Scabbers who belonged to their youngest son, and Harry's best friend, Ron.

The truth behind Wormtail's betrayal came to light, but he had escaped and, with the help of Barty Crouch Jr, he had found and resurrected Voldemort.

Barty was caught and returned to Azkaban, which he had been sneaked out of by his father many years previously. Crouch Sr had kept his son hidden, under an Imperius curse, until Wormtail and Voldemort had overpowered him. They had kept Crouch Sr locked up in his own basement for a year, whilst Crouch Jr replaced him at the Ministry where his father worked, disguised with the polyjuice potion.

Once this had come to light, Crouch Sr, a wizard known for his hard stance on sentencing Dark Wizards, the man responsible for sending Sirius to Azkaban without a trial, resigned immediately and had now barred himself inside his home in shame.

At the same time Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, had been protesting against Harry and Dumbledore's assertion that Voldemort had returned, and had even forced Dumbledore off the Wizengamot, part of the wizarding court system from what Harry could tell, but after the Crouch case the evidence seemed undeniable.

Madame Amelia Bones, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and the witch who had presided over the Crouch trial, had been nearly unanimously voted in as the new Minister of Magic. Her position had been filled by a wizard called Pius Thicknesse, a man who Sirius didn't know a lot about, but had heard that he was a good and moral person.

As of yet, none of the Death Eaters who had been present at Harry's duel with Voldemort had been arrested. Not that they were in hiding. Even people Harry had named, like Lucius Malfoy, were still parading around freely.

Because of these Ministerial changes, and the return of Voldemort, one story had been relegated to only a couple of paragraphs every couple of weeks or so. Though the disappearance of gossip-monger, Rita Skeeter, had since been attributed to Voldemort and his followers, Harry knew different. Rita had been an unregistered animagus who, in her beetle form, had been buzzing around looking for a story when Trevor, the pet toad of Harry's friend Neville, had caught her with his tongue and swallowed her.

After reading the paper, and discovering that, yet again, Voldemort was keeping a low profile - 'he's gathering his strength,' Sirius kept saying - they would go down to the kitchen and Sirius would cook up a hearty breakfast for everyone. At first the Dursleys had been suspicious of any food Sirius had cooked, as part of his charm offensive to get everyone to like him. But one day, Dudley couldn't stand smelling what Sirius has made and not being able to eat it. After he had tucked in and had no adverse effects Vernon and Petunia had decided to try the food as well. Now Sirius was in charge of all meals.

Dudley was as vast as ever, but a year's hard dieting and the discovery of a new talent had wrought quite a change in his physique. As Uncle Vernon delightedly told anyone who would listen, Dudley had recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter School Boxing Champion of the Southeast. The noble sport, as Uncle Vernon called it, had made Dudley even more formidable than he had seemed to Harry in their primary school days when he had served as Dudley's first punchball. Harry was not remotely afraid of his cousin any more but he still didn't think that Dudley learning to punch harder and more accurately was cause for cele bration. Neighbourhood children all around were terrified of him even more terrified than they were of that 'Potter boy' - who, they had been warned, was a hardened hooligan and attended St Brutus's, and now walked everywhere with an equally vicious beast of a dog.

It was Dudley and his gang, though, who spent every evening vandalising the play park, smoking on street corners and throwing stones at passing cars and children. Harry had seen them at it during his and Sirius's evening walks around Little Whinging. Not that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would believe it if they told them.

After each meal Harry and Sirius would spend time out of the house together. Every so often, if no one was around Sirius would transform out of his dog form and the two of them would talk about the wizarding world, unencumbered by shrieks and whimpers from the Dursleys.

Harry heard no news from Ron or Neville, nor from his other friends Hermione and Draco, nor Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister and Harry's girlfriend. Sirius told Harry it was better that way, letters could be intercepted by Voldemort or his followers. Everyone told him that they'd all see each other again soon, but no one seemed to have an exact date. Not that Harry wasn't enjoying his time with Sirius, but he would rather be away from the Dursleys.

Not that they were wasting their time. A fortnight before Harry's birthday Sirius had given him an early present. Harry opened the box and found a leaf there. From their Herbology lessons in Harry's second year, he recognised it as a Mandrake leaf.

'I thought you might like to follow in mine and your dad's footsteps,' Sirius said as Harry looked at him quizzically. 'It's a full moon in two days. If you keep that in your mouth until the next one in August, then that's the first step to becoming an animagus.'

Harry couldn't believe what his godfather was saying. He wanted Harry to become an animagus just like him. Harry leapt at the chance.

At first Sirius taught him how to speak and eat with the Mandrake leaf in his mouth in preparation for the full moon. Ever since Harry had kept the leaf in his mouth at all times. Sirius had warned him that if it fell out or was swallowed, then he would have to start again, and that he'd have to wait until next summer so Sirius could supervise. Harry had a week to go. In the meantime Sirius had been teaching Harry the incantation he needed to learn. Every sundown and sunrise he needed to repeat this with his wand over his heart, until a lightning storm came when he had to drink the potion Sirius would concoct for him and the transformation would take place.

Tonight Harry and Sirius, who had remained in his dog form, had taken a long walk around the outskirts of Little Whinging. On their way back to Privet Drive they walked up Magnolia Road, which, like Privet Drive, was full of large, square houses with perfectly manicured lawns, all owned by large, square owners who drove very clean cars similar to Uncle Vernon's. It was here that Dudley and his gang came into view. They seemed to be saying their farewells at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent.

Harry and Sirius stepped into the shadow of a large lilac tree and waited. 

'... squealed like a pig, didn't he?' Malcolm was saying, to guffaws from the others.

'Nice right hook, Big D,' said Piers.

'Same time tomorrow,' said Dudley

'Round at my place & my parents will be out,' said Gordon.

'See you then,' said Dudley

'Bye, Dud.'

'See ya, Big D!'

Harry and Sirius waited for the rest of the gang to move on before setting off again. When the gang's voices had faded away they headed around the corner into Magnolia Crescent and by walking very quickly soon came within hailing distance of Dudley, who was strolling along at his ease, humming tunelessly.

'Hey Big D!'

Dudley turned.

'Oh,' he grunted. 'It's you.'

'How long have you been "Big D" then?' said Harry.

'Shut it,' snarled Dudley, turning away.

Sirius growled quietly 

'Cool name,' said Harry, grinning and falling into step beside his cousin. 'But you'll always be "Ickle Diddykins" to me.'

'I said, SHUT IT!' said Dudley, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists. But when Sirius gave a short warming bark, Dudley jumped back.

'Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?'

'Shut your face,' Dudley said quietly, walking faster now.

'You don't tell her to shut her face. What about "Popkin" and "Dinky Diddydums", can I use them then?'

Dudley said nothing. He dare not hit Harry for fear of Sirius.

'So who've you been beating up tonight?' Harry asked, his grin fading. 'Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago -'

'He was asking for it,' snarled Dudley.

'Oh yeah?'

'He cheeked me.'

'Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs? Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true.'

Sirius let out a wheezy bark that Harry had learnt to recognise as a laugh. A muscle was twitching in Dudley's jaw. It gave Harry enormous satisfaction to know how furious he was making Dudley.

They turned right down the narrow alleyway where Harry had first seen Sirius and which formed a short cut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and much darker than the streets it linked because there were no streetlamps. Their foot steps were muffled between garage walls on one side and a high fence on the other.

Dudley carried on in silence. He knew Harry couldn't use magic outside of school, but Sirius still scared him. All of a sudden Dudley gave an odd shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.

Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch black and lightless - the stars, the moon the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant rumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them.

Harry turned his head this way and that, trying to see something, but the darkness pressed on his eyes like a weightless veil.

Dudley's terrified voice broke in Harry's ear. "W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!'

'I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!'

'I c-cant see! I've g-gone blind! I -'

'I said shut up!'

Harry stood stock still. turning his sightless eyes left and right The cold was so intense he was shivering all over; goose bumps had erupted up his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up-he opened his eyes to their fullest extent, staring blankly around, unseeing.

It was impossible ... they couldn't be here ... not in Little Whinging ... he strained his ears ... he would hear them before he saw them ...

'Dementors,' Sirius confirmed, transforming into a human once more and taking out his wand.

'What are they doing here?' Harry asked in concern.

'They're after you, I fear,' said Sirius. 'Dumbledore said that they'd go over to Voldemort.'

At that moment Harey heard just the thing he had been dreading.

There was something in the alleyway apart from themselves, something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Harry felt a horrible jolt of dread as he stood trembling in the freezing air.

'C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!'

'Dudley, shut up!' Harry and Sirius shouted in unison.

Ast the end of the alleyway Harry saw it. A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly towards him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!' shouted Sirius at Harry's side, over the screams of his dying mother.

Harry saw an enormous silver dog erupt from the tip of Sirius's wand. It attacked the Dementor, it's jaws taking hold of it and shaking. 

Harry heard a scream from behind them - not one of his parents. Wheeling around, he sprinted down the alleyway and had run barely a dozen steps when he reached Dudley, curled up on the ground, his arms clamped over his face. A second Dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prising them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head towards Dudley's face as though about to kiss him.

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!' Harry bellowed, thinking of his first kiss with Ginny at the Yule Ball last year. Instantly a silver stag erupted from his wand. The Dementors eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and it soared away. The stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved silver mist.

Moon, stars and streetlamps burst back into life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway. Trees rustled in neighbouring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again.

Harry stood quite still, all his senses vibrating, taking in the abrupt return to normality. After a moment, he became aware that his T-shirt was sticking to him, he was drenched in sweat. He could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging.

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up. 

'How is he?' Sirius asked, running up to them.

'Alive,' said Harry, 'but he almost got kissed.'

Rather than kill, a Dementor will suck out a person's soul, leaving them an empty shell. This is known as the Dementor's Kiss.

'We'd better get him home,' said Sirius.

Together they lifted Dudley between them and walked him back to Privet Drive.


	67. The Howler

The hall light was on when they arrived back at number four Privet Drive. Harry tried to open the door, but the Dursleys had already locked it.

'Alohamora,' Sirius said, tapping the lock with his wand. Harry heard it click and they was able to open the door and get Dudley inside.

'Diddy! Is that you?' Aunt Petunia called from the kitchen. 'About time too, I was getting quite worried, you know ... Why it's almost ten o'clock, who's to say who's out at this time of night?' Aunt Petunia came out of the kitchen to greet her son who swayed where he stood, his face pale green ... then he opened his mouth and vomited all over the hallway carpet. 

'DIDDY!' Aunt Petunia screamed. 'Diddy, what's the matter with you? Vernon? VERNON!'

Harry's uncle came galumphing out of the living room, walrus moustache blowing hither and thither as it always did when he was agitated. He hurried forwards to help Aunt Petunia negotiate a weak-kneed Dudley into the kitchen while avoiding stepping in the pool of sick. 

'He's ill, Vernon!'

'What is it, son? What's happened? Did Mrs Polkiss give you something foreign for tea?'

'Why are you all covered in dirt, darling? Have you been lying on the ground?'

'Hang on - you haven't been mugged, have you, son?'

Aunt Petunia screamed.

'Phone the police, Vernon! Phone the police! Diddy, darling, speak to Mummy! What did they do to you?'

In the hall Sirius cleared up the vomit with his wand.

'Harry,' he said, grabbing hold of Harry's shoulders and looking him in the eyes with a deep seriousness. 'I need to make contact with some people, get this under control. Stay in the house, you'll be safe here.'

'Where are you going?' Harry asked.

'Never mind that just now. Your safety is most important at the moment, just stay here, promise me that you will, no matter what happens.'

Harry promised that he would, and Sirius left the house, running back up the driveway.

Harry began to ascend the staircase when he heard Uncle Vernon bellow, 'BOY! COME HERE!'

With a feeling of mingled dread and anger, Harry removed his foot slowly from the stair and turned to follow the Dursleys. 

The scrupulously clean kinchern had an oddly unreal gitter after the darkness outside. Aunt Petunia was ushering Dudley into a chair; he was still very green and clammy looking. Uncle Vernon was standing in front of the draining board, glaring at Harry through tiny, narrowed eyes. 

'What have you and that no good godfather of yours done to my son?' he said in a menacing growl.

'Nothing,' said Harry, knowing perfectly well that Uncle Vernon wouldn't believe him

'What did they do to you, Diddy?' Aunt Petunia said in a quavering voice, now sponging sick from the front of Dudley's leather jacket. 'Was it - was it you-know-what, darling? Did they use - their thing?'

Slowly, tremulously, Dudley nodded.

'We didn't!' Harry said sharply, as Aunt Petunia let out a wail and Uncle Vernon raised his fists. 'We didn't do anything to him. it wasn't us, it was -'

'Well where is your godfather anyway?' bellowed Uncle Vernon. 'Ran away has he? Decided he'd had enough of being with our kind and decided to start killing us again?'

'Sirius never killed anyone!' Harry shouted. 'And we were trying to save Dudley!'

At that precise moment a screech owl swooped in through the kitchen window. Narrowly missing the top of Uncle Vernon's head, it soared across the kitchen, dropped the large parchment envelope it was carrying in its beak at Harry's feet, turned gracefully, the tips of its wings just brushing the top of the fridge, then zoomed outside again and off across the garden.

'OWLS!' bellowed Uncle Vernon, the well-worn vein in his temple pulsing angrily as he slammed the kitchen window shut. 'OWLS AGAIN! I WILL NOT HAVE ANY MORE OWLS IN MY HOUSE!' 

But Harry was already ripping open the envelope and pulling out the letter inside, his heart pounding somewhere in the region of his Adam's apple

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle._

_Due to the severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery you will attend a disciplinary hearing on he twelfth of August, at which time an official decision will be taken on whether you will be allowed to continue you study of magic at Hogwarts School of Witcheraft and Wizardry, and as such if you will be allowed to keep your wand or not. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further enquiries_

_With best wishes,  
Yours sincerely,  
Mafalda Hopkirk  
Improper Use of Magic Office  
Ministry of Magic _

Harry read the letter through twice. He was only vaguely aware of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia talking. Inside his head, all was icy and numb. One fact had penetrated his consciousness like a paralysing dart. He might be expelled from Hogwarts. It all hung on this hearing.

He looked up at the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon was purple-faced shouting his fists still raised, Aunt Petunia had her arms around Dudley, who was retching again.

Harrys temporarily stupefied brain seemed to reawaken. If he'd had a letter, had Sirius too? What would that mean for him? Would he be losing his wand so soon after he had returned to the wizarding world?

There was nothing Harry could do but wait for his godfather to return. Sirius would know what to do.

'Listen here boy,' said Uncle Vernon, the vein in his purple temple throbbing worse than ever, 'you will explain exactly what happened to Dudley right this moment.'

For a moment Harry felt defeated. Even if he explained what was going on, there's no way the Dursleys would believe him.

'I'm waiting,' said Uncle Vernon impatiently. 'What did you and that good-for-nothing godfather of yours do to my son.'

'We didn't do anything!' said Harry once more.

'Did,' muttered Dudley unexpectedly, and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia instantly made flapping gestures at Harry to quiet him while they both bent low over Dudley.

'Go on, son,' said Uncle Vernon, 'what did they do?'

'Tell us, darling,' whispered Aunt Petunia. 

'Everything went dark,' Dudley said hoarsely, shuddering. 'And then I heard ... things. Inside my head ...' 

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged looks of utter horror. If their least favourite thing in the world was magic - closely followed by neighbours who cheated more than they did on the hosepipe ban - people who heard voices were definitely in the bottom ten. They obviously thought Dudley was losing his mind.

'What sort of things did you hear, Popkin?' breathed Aunt Petunia, very white-faced and with tears in her eyes.

Dudley seemed incapable of saying. He shuddered again shook his large blond head, and despite the sense of numb dread that had settled on Harry since the arrival of the owl he felt a certain curiosity. Dementors caused a person to relive the worst moments of their life. What would spoiled, pampered bullying Dudley have been forced to hear?

'How come you fell over son?' said Uncle Vernon, in an unusually quiet voice, the kind of voice he might adopt at the bedside of a very ill person.

'T-tripped,' said Dudley shakily. 'And then -'

He gestured at his massive chest. Harry understood. Dudley was remembering the clammy cold that filled the lungs as hope and happiness were sucked out of you. 

'Horrible,' croaked Dudley 'Cold. Really cold.'

'OK' said Uncle Vernon, in a voice of forced calm, while Aunt Petunia laid an anxious hand on Dudley's forehead to feel his temperature. 'What happened then, Dudders?'

'Felt ... felt ... felt ... as if ... as if ...'

'As if you'd never be happy again,' Harry supplied dully. 

'Yes,' Dudley whispered, still trembling.

'So!' said Uncle Vernon, voice restored to full and considerable volume as he straightened up. 'You put some crackpot spell on my son so he'd hear voices and believe he was - was doomed to misery or something did you?'

'How many times do I have to tell you?' said Harry, temper and voice both rising. 'It wasn't me or Sirius! It was a couple of Dementors!'

'A couple of - what's this codswallop?'

'De-men-tors,' said Harry slowly and clearly. 'Two of them.'

'And what the ruddy hell are Dementors?'

'They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban,' said Aunt Petunia.

Two seconds of ringing silence followed these words before Aunt Petunia clapped her hand over her mouth as though she had let slip a disgusting swear word. Uncle Vernon was goggling at her. Harrys brain reeled. 

'How d'you know that?' he asked her, astonished. Aunt Petunia looked quite appalled with herself. She glanced at Uncle Vernon in fearful apology, then lowered her hand slightly to reveal her horsy teeth.

'I heard - that awful boy - telling her about them - years ago,' she said jerkily.

'If you mean my mum and dad, why don't you use their names?' said Harry loudly, but Aunt Petunia ignored him. She seemed horribly flustered.

Harry was stunned. Except for one outburst years ago, in the course of which Aunt Petunia had screamed that Harry's mother had been a freak, he had never heard her mention her sister. He was astounded that she had remembered this scrap of information about the magical world for so long, when she usually put all her energies into pretending it didn't exist.

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, shut it, then, apparently struggling to remember how to talk, opened it for a third time and croaked, 'So - so - they - er - they - are - they actually exist, do they - er - Dementy-whatsits?'

Aunt Petunia nodded.

Uncle Vernon looked from Aunt Petunia to Dudley to Harry as if hoping somebody was going to shout April Fools. When nobody did, he opened his mouth yet again, but was spared the struggle to find more words by the arrival of Sirius. He raced into the kitchen, causing all three of the Dursleys to jump with fright. 

'You got one too,' he said to Harry looking at the letter still in his hand. 'Don't worry, the hearing will be just a formality, we'll be fine.'

'Sorry?' said Uncle Vernon, regaining the ability to speak. 'What hearing?'

'Harry and I had to use magic in order to save your son, but the Ministry doesn't like us using magic in front of Muggles,' explained Sirius.

'Ministry? What ministry?' Uncle Vernon demanded.

'The Ministry of Magic,' said Sirius calmly.

Uncle Vernon went back to opening and closing his mouth.

'Well, if that's all,' said Harry, moving to leave the kitchen, wanting to talk with Sirius in private.

'NO, IT RUDDY WELL IS NOT ALL!' bellowed Uncle Vernon.

'What now?' said Harry impatiently

'DUDLEY!' roared Uncle Vernon. 'I want to know exactly what happened to my son!'

'Of course, Vernon,' began Sirius, 'as his father you have -'

'No, you don't talk,' said Uncle Vernon. 'If you weren't here none of this would have happened, I'm sure.'

Sirius held up his hands and took a step back.

'Sirius and I saw Dudley on our way back from our walk and joined him. We were in the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk,' said Harry, speaking fast, fighting to control his temper. 'Dudley thought he'd be smart with me ... then two Dementors turned up -'

'But what ARE Dementoids?' asked Uncle Vernon furiously. 'What do they DO?'

'I told you - they suck all the happiness out of you,' said Harry, 'and if they get the chance, they kiss you -'

'Kiss you?' said Uncle Vernon, his eyes popping slightly. 'Kiss you?

'It's what they call it when they suck the soul out of your mouth.'

Aunt Petunia uttered a soft scream 'His soul? They didn't take - he's still got his -'

She seized Dudley by the shoulders and shook him, as though testing to see whether she could hear his soul rattling around inside him 

'Of course they didn't get his soul, you'd know if they had,' said Harry, exasperated. 

'Fought 'em off, did you, son?' said Uncle Vernon loudly, with the appearance of a man struggling to bring the conversation back on to a plane he understood. 'Gave 'em the old one-two, did you?'

'You can't give a Dementor the old one-two,' said Harry through clenched teeth.

'Why's he all right, then?' blustered Uncle Vernon. 'Why isn't he all empty, then?'

'Because me and Sirius used the Patronus charm!'

'What's that?' asked Uncle Vernon.

'It's the only thing that can fight a Dementor,' said Harry. 'It appears like a silvery animal that acts as a shield.'

'What kind of animal?' asked Uncle Vernon.

'It's different for everyone. Mine's a stag, Sirius has a dog.'

Sirius shuffled in the corner of the kitchen and gave Harry a curious look.

'But what were Dementoids doing in Little Whinging?' said Uncle Vernon in an outraged tone. His head was pounding in the glare of the strip-lighting now.

'Couldn't tell you,' said Harry wearily. 'No idea.'

His anger was ebbing away. He felt drained, exhausted. The Dursleys were all staring at him. 

'It's you two,' said Uncle Vernon forcefully. 'It's got something to do with you two, I know it. Why else would they turn up here? Why else would they be down that alleyway? You've got to be the only - the only -' Evidently, he couldn't bring himself to say the word wizards. 'The only you-know-whats for miles.'

'Look, we don't know why they were here,' said Harry, 'but Sirius thinks that Lord Voldemort must have sent them.'

'What's that? Who must have sent them?'

'Lord Voldemort,' said Harry.

He registered dimly how strange it was that the Dursleys, who flinched, winced and squawked if they heard words like 'wizard', 'magic' or 'wand', could hear the name of the most evil wizard of all time without the slightest tremor.

'Lord - hang on,' said Uncle Vernon, his face screwed up, a look of dawning comprehension coming into his piggy eyes. 'I've heard that name that was the one who -'

'Murdered my parents, yes,' Harry said dully. 

'But he's gone,' said Uncle Vernon impatiently, without the slightest sign that the murder of Harry's parents might be a painful topic. 'That giant bloke said so. He's gone.' 

It felt very strange to be standing here in Aunt Petunia's surgically clean kitchen, beside the top-of-the-range fridge and the wide-screen television, talking calmly of Lord Voldemort to Uncle Vernon. The arrival of the Dementors in Little Whinging seemed have breached the great, invisible wall that divided the relentlessly non-magical world of Privet Drive and the world beyond. 

Harry's two lives had somehow become fused and everything had been turned upside-down; the Dursleys were asking for details about the magical world; Dementors were soaring around Little Whinging; and he might never return to Hogwarts. Harry's head throbbed more painfully. 

'Back?' whispered Aunt Petunia.

She was looking at Harry as she had never looked at him before. And all of a sudden, for the very first time in his life, Harry fully appreciated that Aunt Petunia was his mother's sister. He could not have said why this hit him so very powerfully at this moment. All he knew was that he and Sirius were not the only people in the room who had an inkling of what Lord Voldemort being back might mean. Aunt Petunia had never in her life looked at him like that before. Her large, pale eyes (so unlike her sister's) were not narrowed in dislike or anger, they were wide and fearful. The furious pretence that Aunt Petunia had maintained all Harry's life - that there was no magic and no world other than the world she inhabited with Uncle Vernon - seemed to have fallen away.

'Yes,' Harry said, talking directly to Aunt Petunia now. 'He came back a month ago. I saw him.'

Her hands found Dudley's massive leather-clad shoulders and clutched them.

'Hang on,' said Uncle Vernon, looking from his wife to Harry and back again, apparently dazed and confused by the unprecedented understanding that seemed to have sprung up between them. 'Hang on. This Lord Voldything's back, you say.'

'Yes.'

'The one who murdered your parents.'

'Yes.'

'And now he's sending Dismembers after you?'

'Looks like it,' said Harry.

'I see,' said Uncle Vernon, looking from his white-faced wife to Harry and hitching up his trousers. He seemed to be swelling, his great purple face stretching before Harry's eyes. 'Well, that settles it,' he said, his shirt front straining as he inflated himself, 'you can get out of this house, boy!'

'What?' said Harry.

'You heard me - OUT!' Uncle Vernon bellowed, and even Aunt Petunia and Dudley jumped. 

'No!' shouted Sirius, jumping to Harry's side. 'He has to remain here!'

'You can shut up!' roared Uncle Vernon. 'I should never have allowed you under my roof, never allowed myself to be intimidated by one of your kind! OUT! OUT! Both of you! I should've done this years ago! Owls treating the place like a rest home, puddings exploding, half the lounge destroyed, Dudley's tail, Marge bobbing around on the ceiling and don't think I've forgotten about that sweet you have Dudley last year - OUT! OUT! You've had it! You're history! You're not staying here if some loony's after you, you're not endangering my wife and son, you're not bringing trouble down on us. If you're going the same way as your useless parents, I've had it! OUT!'

Harry stood rooted to the spot, Sirius between him and his uncle.

'You heard me!' said Uncle Vernon, flecks of spittle flying over Harry and Sirius. 'Get going! Get out and never darken our doorstep again! Why we ever kept you in the first place, I don't know, Marge was right, it should have been the orphanage. We were too damn soft for our own good, thought we could squash it out of you, thought we could turn you normal, but you've been rotten from the beginning and I've had enough!'

At that moment, an owl zoomed down the chimney so fast it actually hit the floor before zooming into the air again with a loud screech. Harry raised his hand to seize the letter, which was in a scarlet envelope, but it soared straight over his head, flying directly at Aunt Petunia, who let out a scream and ducked, her arms over her face. The owl dropped the red envelope on her head, turned, and flew straight back up the chimney.

Harry darted forwards to pick up the letter, but Aunt Petunia beat him to it. 

'You can open it if you like,' said Harry, but I'll hear what it says anyway. That's a Howler.'

'Let go of it. Petunia!' roared Uncle Vernon. 'Don't touch it, it could be dangerous!'

'It's addressed to me,' said Aunt Petunia in a shaking voice. 'It's addressed to me, Vernon, look! Mrs Petunia Dursley, The Kitchen, Number Four, Privet Drive.' She caught her breath, horrified. The red envelope had begun to smoke.

'Open it!' Harry and Sirius urged her. 

'Get it over with!' said Harry. 'It'll happen anyway.'

'No.' Aunt Petunia's hand was trembling. She looked wildly around the kitchen as though looking for an escape route, but too late - the envelope burst into flames. Aunt Petunia screamed and dropped it.

An awful voice filled the kitchen, echoing in the confined space, issuing from the burning letter on the table.

' _Remember my last, Petunia._ '

Aunt Petunia looked as though she might faint. She sank into the chair beside Dudley, her face in her hands. The remains of the envelope smouldered into ash in the silence.

'What is this?' Uncle Vernon said hoarsely. 'What - I don't - Petunia?'

Aunt Petunia said nothing. Dudley was staring stupidly at his mother, his mouth hanging open. The silence spiralled horribly. Harry was watching his aunt, utterly bewildered, his head throbbing fit to burst.

'Petunia, dear?' said Uncle Vernon timidly. 'P-Petunia?'

She raised her head. She was still trembling. She swallowed. 'The boy - the boy will have to stay, Vernon,' she said weakly. 

'W-what?'

'He stays,' she said. She was not looking at Harry. She got to her feet again.

'He ... but Petunia ...'

'If we throw him out, the neighbours will talk,' she said. She was rapidly regaining her usual brisk, snappish manner, though she was still very pale. 'They'll ask awkward questions, they'll want to know where he's gone. We'll have to keep him.' 

Uncle Vernon was deflating like an old tyre.

'But Petunia, dear -'

Aunt Petunia ignored him. She turned to Harry.

'You're to stay in your room,' she said. 'You're not to leave the house.' She then turned to Sirius and said, 'You, however, will leave our house. And I hope never to see you again.'

Sirius nodded solemnly.

'That's not fair!' said Harry. 'If he's going then I'm going.'

'No, Harry, listen to your aunt,' Sirius said. 'It'll be fine, I promise.'

Harry didn't move.

'Who was that Howler from?' he asked.

'Don't ask questions,' Aunt Petunia snapped. 'Go to your bed.'

'Are you in touch with wizards?'

'I told you to get to bed!'

'What did it mean? Remember the last what?'

'Go to bed!'

'How come -?'

'YOU HEARD YOUR AUNT, NOW GO UP TO BED!'

'Harry,' said Sirius steering him out of the kitchen. 'Stay in your room. I promise we'll see each other again soon, everything is in motion to fix this.'

With the Sirius left the house. Harry watched him as he walked up Privet Drive. Then he vanished with a crack that told Harry that he had Dispparated.


	68. The Advanced Guard

Sirius followed Harry to his room and sat on the bed with him.

'You did well tonight, Harry,' Sirius said, before sighing and rubbing his face wearily. 'I'm going to have to leave you here for a few days whilst Dumbledore makes arrangements.'

'What kind of arrangements? Why can't you stay?' asked Harry, angry that he was being left alone with three people who despised him.

'It will make things worse if I stay here,' said Sirius. 'First of all we need to arrange a safehouse away from Little Whinging. Secondly we need to gather an escort to get you there.'

'Why can't I go to The Burrow?' asked Harry.

'Because they'll be expecting you to go there. We need somewhere the Death Eaters won't think to look. And before you argue anything else, yes you do need an escort,' Sirius continued sternly, anticipating Harry's next protest. 'Voldemort is clearly getting his followers ready to attack, so we must be ready at all times. Now, I want you to pack. You've got to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. And don't worry about the hearing, we'll be fine. You'll be back at Hogwarts come September, I promise. And I think you becoming an animagus might be a great deal more useful than I anticipated, all things considered. But whatever you do, do _not_ leave the house.'

Sirius left Harry alone with his thoughts. Harry paced the bedroom. He'd just been attacked by Dementors and might be expelled from Hogwarts. And Sirius was now telling him to stay at the Dursleys and not leave until he came back to move him somewhere else.

Up and down he paced, consumed with anger and frustration, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists, casting angry looks out at the empty, star-strewn sky every time he passed the window. 

And what had that Howler been about? Whose voice had echoed so horribly, so menacingly, through the kitchen? Why was he still trapped here without information? Why was Sirius treating him like some naughty child? Don't do any more magic ... stay in the house ... 

He kicked his school trunk as he passed it, but far from relieving his anger he felt worse, as he now had a sharp pain in his toe to deal with too.

Just as he limped past the window, Hedwig sieved through with a soft rustle of wings like a small ghost.

She landed lightly on top of her cage, a dead frog clamped in her beak. Harry stroked her head and began to feel calmer, then let her get on with swallowing her prey. 

Harry threw himself down on his bed without undressing and stared at the ceiling. At least Sirius leaving so soon meant that the arrangements would be made quickly. And with that comforting idea, sleep rolled over him, stilling all further thought.

*

Harry spent the next day in his bedroom, packing his trunk and leaving only to go to the bathroom. Three times that day Aunt Petunia shoved food into his room through the cat flap Uncle Vernon had installed three summers ago. Every time Harry heard her approaching he tried to question her about the Howler, but he might as well have interrogated the doorknob for all the answers he got. Otherwise, the Dursleys kept well clear of his bedroom. Harry couldn't see the point of forcing his company on them, another row would achieve nothing except perhaps make him so angry he'd perform more illegal magic. 

Sirius didn't return that day, nor the next, nor the day after that. Harry was alternately filled with restless energy that made him unable to settle to anything, during which time he paced his bedroom, furious at the that Sirius had left him to stew in this mess, and with a lethargy so complete that he could lie on his bed for an hour at a time, staring dazedly into space, aching with dread at the thought of the Ministry hearing.

What if they ruled against him? What if he was expelled and his wand was snapped in half? What would he do, where would he go? He could nor return to living full-time with the Dursleys, not now he knew the other world, the one to which he really belonged to. Might he be able to move in with Sirius, as Sirius had suggested a year ago, before Dumbledore had vetoed that idea? Or, as he was still underage, would the matter of where he went next be decided for him? Had his breach of the International Statute of Secrecy been severe enough to land him in a cell in Azkaban? Whenever this thought occurred, Harry invariably slid off his bed and began pacing again. 

On the fourth night after Sirius's departure Harry was lying in one of his apathetic phases, staring at the ceiling, his exhausted mind quite blank, when his uncle entered his bedroom. Harry looked slowly around at him. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best suit and an expression of enormous smugness. 

'We're going out,' he said.

'Sorry?'

'We - that is to say, your aunt, Dudley and I - are going out!'

'Fine,' said Harry dully. Looking back at the ceiling. 

'You are not to leave your bedroom while we are away'

'OK.'

'You are not to touch the television, the stereo, or any of our possessions,'

'Right.'

'You are not to steal food from the fridge.'

'OK.'

'I am going to lock your door.'

'You do that.'

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, clearly suspicious of this lack of argument, then stomped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Harry heard the key turn in the lock and Uncle Vernon's footsteps walking heavily down the stars. A few minutes later he heard the slamming of car doors, the rumble of an engine and the unmistakable sound of the car sweeping out of the drive.

Harry had no particular feeling about the Dursleys leaving. It made no difference to him whether they were in the house or not. He could not even summon the energy to get up and turn the bedroom light on.

The room grew steadily darker around him as he lay listening to the night sounds through the window. The empty house creaked around him. The pipes gurgled. Harry lay there in a kind of stupor, thinking of nothing, suspended in misery. 

Then, quite distinctly, he heard a crash in the kitchen below. He sat bolt upright, listening intently. The Dursleys couldn't be back; it was much too soon, and in any case he hadn't heard their car.

There was silence for a few seconds, then voices. Burglars, he thought, sliding off the bed on to his feet - but a split second later it occurred to him that burglars would keep their voices down, and whoever was moving around in the kitchen was certainly not troubling to do so.

He snatched up his wand from the bedside table and stood facing his bedroom door, listening with all his might. Next moment, he jumped as the lock gave a loud click and his door swung open.

It was Sirius.

'Hello Harry,' his godfather said, grinning in his wandlight. 'I told you I'd be back soon. Come and meet the gang.'

Harry followed Sirius silently out of his room to the head of the stairs.

His heart shot upwards into his throat. There were people standing in the shadowy hall below, silhouetted against the street light glowing through the glass door; eight or nine of them, all, as far as he could see, looking up at him.

Remus Lupin stood nearest to him. When Harry had first met him two year ago on the Hogwarts Express, when he was Harry's third year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus had been a shabby and tired looking man. Though he still had lines etched onto his face that aged him, he had moved in with Sirius to help him readjust after so long in Azkaban, and looked much better for it. Not least because he now had a decent set of robes. He was smiling broadly at Harry, who smiled back.

'Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would,' said a witch who was holding her lit wand aloft. She looked the youngest there, she had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of violet. 'Wotcher, Harry!'

'Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus,' said a bald black wizard standing furthest back - he had a deep, slow voice and wore a single gold hoop in his ear - 'he looks exactly like James'

'Except the eyes,' said a wheezy-voiced, silver-haired wizard at the back. 'Lily's eyes.'

'Are you quite sure is him, Black?' growled a voice near the back. 'It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?'

Professor Moody, who had long grizzled grey hair and a large chunk missing from his nose, was squinting suspiciously at Harry through his mismatched eyes. One eye was small, dark and beady, the other large, round and electric blue - the magical eye that could see through walls, doors and the back of Moody's own head. He had been Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in Harry's fourth year, though it had only been a one year tenure to help Dumbledore keep his eye on the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

'Harry what happened the first time you saw me in dog form?' Sirius sighed.

'I tripped over and accidentally called the Knight Bus,' said Harry.

'There you go, Mad-Eye,' said Sirius. 'The boy himself.'

Very conscious of everybody still staring at him, Harry descended the stairs. 

'How are you?' Remus asked, looking closely at Harry.

'Fine.'

Harry could hardly believe this was real; a whole bunch of wizards standing in front of him, at number for Privet Drive, as if this was a long-standing arrangement. He glanced at the people surrounding Remus; they were still gazing avidly at him. He felt very conscious of the fact that he had not combed his hair for four days.

'I'm - you're really lucky the Dursleys are out,' he mumbled. 

'Lucky, ha!' said the violet-haired woman, 'It was me who lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling them they had been shortlisted for the All-England Best Kept Suburban Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving night or they think they are!'

Harry had a fleeting vision of Uncle Venon's face when he realised there was no All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition 

'We are leaving, arent we?' he asked. 'Soon?'

'Almost at once,' said Remus, 'we're just waiting for the all-clear.'

'Where are we going?' Harry asked.

'We've set up Headquarters somewhere un-detectable,' said Lupin, motioning Harry towards the kitchen. The little knot of wizards followed, all still eyeing Harry curiously. 'It's taken a while.' 

Professor Moody was now sitting at the kitchen table swigging from a hip flask, his magical eye spinning in all directions, taking in the Dursleys' many labour-saving appliances.

'You know Alastor Moody, of course,' Lupin continued, pointing towards the Professor. 'This is Nymphadora -'

'Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus,' said the young witch with a shudder, 'it's Tonks.'

'Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only.' finished Lupin

'So would you if your fool of a mother had called you Nymphadora,' muttered Tonks.

'Don't talk about Dromeda like that,' said Sirius at Harry's side.

'Come on, unc,' said Tonks, 'you know she was out of order calling me that.' They shared a mischievous grin.

'Dora's my niece,' Sirius explained to Harry. 'Her mum was always my favourite cousin.'

'And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt,' said Remus, indicating to the tall black wizard, who bowed. 'Elphias Doge.' The wheezy voiced wizard nodded. 'Dedalus Diggle -'

'We've met before,' squeaked the excitable Diggle, dropping his violet-coloured top hat.

'Emmeline Vance.' A stately-looking witch in an emerald green shawl inclined her head. 'Sturgis Podmore.' A square-jawed wizard with thick straw-coloured hair winked. 'And Hestia Jones.' A pink cheeked, black-haired witch waved from next to the toaster.

Harry inclined his head awkwardly at each of them as they were introduced. He wished they would look at something other than him; it was as though he had suddenly been ushered on-stage. He also wondered why so many of them were there.

'A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you,' said Lupin as if he had read Harry's mind, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly. 

'Yeah, well, the more the better,' said Moody darkly. 'We're your guard, Potter.'

'We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off,' said Lupin, glancing out of the kitchen window. 'We've got about fifteen minutes.'

'Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?' said the witch called Tonks, who was looking around the kitchen with great interest. 'My dad's Muggle-born and he's a right old slob, I suppose it varies just as it does with wizards!'

'Er - yeah,' said Harry. 'How're we getting - wherever we're going?'

'Brooms,' said Remus. 'Only Way. You're too young to Apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorised Portkey.'

'Sirius says you're a good flier,' said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice.

'One of the finest I ever saw,' confirmed Moody

'You'd better go get your stuff Harry,' said Remus, who was checking his watch. 'Hopefully you're all packed like Sirius told you to. We want to be ready when the signal comes.'

'I'll come and help you,' said Tonks brightly.

She followed Hary back into the hall and up the main stairs, looking around with much curiosity and interest.

'Funny plac,' she said. 'It's a bit _too_ clean d'you know want I mean? Bit unnatural. Oh, this is better,' she added, as they entered Harry bedroom and he turned on the light. His room was certainly much messier than the rest of the house

Confined to it for four days in a very bad mood, Harry had not bothered tidying up after himself. His bed was unmade. There were copies of the Daily Prophet tossed aside on the floor. Hedwig's cage needed cleaning out and was starting to smell.

As Harry started to collect the strewn newspapers to put them in his bin, Tonks paused at his open wardrobe to look critically at her reflection in the mirror on the inside of the door.

'You know, I don't think violet's really my colour,' she said pensively, tugging at a lock of spiky hair 'D'you think it makes me look a bit peaky?'

'Er -' said Harry, looking up at her over a headline that read: _THE GALL OF THE GALLIC GIRL'S GHOULS_. It was a story about a French lady who had been rounding up ghouls from the local villages surrounding Cannes and sending them across to England on cargo ferries.

'Yeah, it does,' said Tonks decisively. She screwed up her eyes in a strained expression as though she was struggling to remember something. A second later, her hair had turned bubble-gum pink. 

'How did you do that?' said Harry, gaping at her as she opened her cyes again.

'I'm a Metamorphmagus,' she said, looking back at her reflection and turning her head so that she could see her hair from all directions. 'It means I can change my appearance at will,' she added, spotting Harry's puzzled expression in the mirror behind her. 'I was born one. I got top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training without any study at all, it was great!'

'You're an Auror?' said Harry, impressed. Being a Dark-Wizard catcher was the only career he'd ever considered after Hogwarts.

'Yeah,' said Tonks, looking proud. 'Kingsley is as well, he's a bitt higher up than me, though. I only qualified a year ago. Nearly failed on Stealth and Tracking. I'm dead clumsy, did you heat me break that plate when we arrived downstairs?'

'Can you learn how to be a Metamorphmagus?' Harry asked her straightening up.

Tonks chuckled. 'Bet you wouldn't mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?'

Her eyes found the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead. 

'No, I wouldn't mind.' Harry mumbled, turning away. He did not like people staring at his scar.

'Well, you'll have to learn the hard way, I'm afraid,' said Tonks. 'Metamorphmagus are really rare, they're born, not made. Most wizards need to use a wand, or potions, to change their appearance. But we've got to get going, Harry, come on,' she added. 'Here, this could do with a bit of cleaning.' 

She pointed her wand at Hedwig's cage and said, 'Scourgify!' A few feathers and droppings vanished.

'Well, that's a bit better - I've never quite got the hang these householdy sort of spells. Right -vgot everything? Cauldron Broom? Wow! - A Firebolt!:

Her eyes widened as they fell on the broomstick in Harry's right hand; it was his pride and joy, a gift from Sirius, an international standard broomstick. 

'And I'm still riding a Comet Two Sixty' said Tonks enviously. 'Ah well ... Got your wand? OK, let's go. _Locomotor trunk!_ '

Harry's trunk rose a few inches into the air. Holding her wand like a conductor's baton, Tonks made the trunk hover across the room and out of the door ahead of them, Hedwig's cage in her left hand. Harry followed her down the stairs carrying his broomstick.

Back in the kitchen Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave and Hestia Jones was laughing at a potato peeler she had come across while rummaging in the drawers. Lupin was scribbling a letter addressed to the Dursleys.

'Excellent,' said Remus, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. 'We've got about five minutes, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry -'

'They won't,' said Harry.

'- that you're safe -'

'That'll just depress them!'

' - and you'll see them next summer'

'Do I have to?'

Remus smiled but made no answer.

'Come here, boy' said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry towards him with his wand. 'I need to Disillusion you.'

'You need to what?' said Harry nervously.

'Disillusionment Charm' said Moody, raising his wand. 'Lupin says you've got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't stay on while we're flying; this'll disguise you better. Here you go.' 

He rapped him hard on the top of the head and Harry felt a curious sensation as though Moody had just smashed an egg there; cold trickles seemed to be running down his body from the place the wand had struck.

'Nice one, Mad-Eye,' said Tonks appreciatively, staring at Harry's midriff.

Harry looked down at his body, or rather, what had been his body, for it didn't look anything like his body any more. It was not invisible; it had simply taken on the exact colour and texture of the kitchen unit behind him. He seemed to have become a human chameleon.

'Come on,' said Moody, unlocking the back door with his wand. They all stepped outside on to Uncle Vernon's beautifully kept lawn.

'Clear night,' grunted Moody, his magical eye scanning the heavens. 'Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, then,' he barked at Harry, 'we're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you, keep close on her tail. Sirius'll be covering you from below, I'm going to be behind you. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed -'

'Is that likely?' Harry asked apprehensively, but Moody ignored him - though Sirius gave Harry a small shake of his head and a bemused smile.

'- the others keep flying, don't stop, don't break ranks. lf they take out all of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guard are standing by to take over, keep flying east and they'll join you.'

'Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, he'll think we're not taking this seriously,' said Tonks, as she strapped Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage into a harness hanging from her broom.

'I'm just telling the boy the plan,' growled Moody. 'Our job's to deliver him safely to Headquarters and if we die in the attempt -'

'No one's going to die,' said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep calming voice. 

'Mount your brooms, that's the first signal' said Remus sharply, pointing into the sky.

Far, far above them, a shower of bright red sparks had flared among the stars. Harry recognised them at once a wand sparks. He swung his right leg over his Firebolt, gripped its handle tightly and felt a vibrating very slightly, as though it was as keen as he was to be up in the air once more.

'Second signal, let's go!' said Remus loudly as more sparks, green this time, exploded high above them.

Harry kicked off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushed through his hair as the neat square gardens of Privet Drive fell way, shrinking rapidly into a patchwork of dark greens and blacks and even the thought of the Ministry hearing was swept from his mind as though the rush of air had blown it out of his head. He felt as though his heart was going to explode with pleasure; he was flying again, flying away from Privet Drive as he'd been fantasising about all summer, he was going home ... for a few glorious moments, all his problems seemed to recede to nothing, insignificant in the vast, starry sky.

'Hard left, hard left, there's a Muggle looking up!' shouted Moody from behind him. Tonks swerved and Harry followed her watching his trunk swinging wildly beneath her broom. 'We need more height give it another quarter of a mile!'

Harry's eyes watered in the chill as they soared upwards; he could see nothing below now but tiny pinpricks of light that were car headlights and streetlamps. Two of those tiny lights might belong to Uncle Vernon's car ... the Dursleys would be heading back to their empty house right now, full of rage about the non- existent Lawn Competition ... and Harry laughed aloud at the thought, though his voice was drowned by the flapping robes of the others, the creaking of the harness holding his trunk and the cage, and the whoosh of the wind in their ears as they sped through the air. He had not felt this alive in a month, or this happy.

'Bearing south!' shouted Mad-Eye. 'Town ahead!'

They soared right to avoid passing directly over the glittering spider's web of lights below. 

'Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud ahead we can lose ourselves in!' called Moody.

'We're not going through clouds!' shouted Tonks angrily, 'we'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!'

Harry was relieved to hear her say this: his hands were growing numb on the Firebolt's handle. He wished he had thought to put on a coat, he was starting to shiver.

They altered their course every now and then according to Mad-Eye's instructions. Harry's eyes were screwed up against the rush of icy wind that was starting to make his ears ache; he could remember being this cold on a broom only once before, during the Quidditch match against Slytherin in his third year, which had taken place in a storm. The guard around him was circling continuously like giant birds of prey Harry lost track of time. He wondered how long they. had been flying, it felt like an hour at least.

'Turning southwest!' yelled Moody. 'We want to avoid the motorway!' 

Harry was now so chilled he thought longingly of the snug dry interiors of the cars streaming along below, then, even more longingly of travelling by Floo powder; it might be uncomfortable to spin around in fireplaces but it was at least warm in the flames. Kingsley Shacklebolt swooped around him, bald pate and earring gleaming slightly in the moonlight now. Emmeline Vance was on his right, her wand out her head turning left and right then she, too, swooped over him, to be replaced by Sturgis Podmore.

'We ought to double back for a bit, just to make sure we're not being followed!' Moody shouted

'ARE YOU MAD MAD-EYE?' Tonks screamed from the front. 'We're all frozen to our brooms! If we keep going off-course we're not going to get there until next week! Besides, we're nearly there now!'

'Time to start the descent!' came Remus's voice. 'Follow Tonks, Harry!'

Harry followed Tonks into a dive. They were heading for the largest collection of lights he had yet seen, a huge, sprawling criss crossing mass, glittering in lines and grids, interspersed with patches of deepest black. Lower and lower they flew, until Harry could see individual headlights and streetlamps, chimneys and television aerials. He wanted to reach the ground very much, though he felt sure someone would have to unfreeze him from his broom.

'Here we go!' called Tonks, and a few seconds later she had landed.

Harry touched down right behind her and dismounted. They were in a small circular park, surrounded by houses. Tonks was already unbuckling Harry's trunk. Shivering, Harry looked around. The houses were all well kept and each was four windows high and at least four stories tall, though a couple, Harry noticed, reached eight or nine stories. Whether the house was made of brown-brick or white-stone, each facade was fastidiously clean. 

'Where are we?' Harry asked, but Remus said quietly, 'In a minute.'

Moody was rummaging in his cloak, his gnarled hands clumsy with cold.

'Got it,' he muttered, raising what looked like a silver cigarette lighter into the air and clicking it.

The nearest streetlamp went out with a pop. He clicked the unlighter again, the next lamp went out; he kept clicking until every lamp in the surrounding the park was extinguished and the only remaining light came from curtained windows and the sickle moon overhead. 

'Borrowed it from Dumbledore,' growled Moody, pocketing the Put-Outer. 'That'll take care of any Muggles looking out of the window, see? Now come on, quick.'

He took Harry by the arm and led him from the grass on which they'd landed, along one of the park pavements, through an iron gate, across the road and on to the pavement; Sirius and Remus followed, carrying Harry's trunk between them, the rest of the guard, all with their wands out, flanking them. The square itself was deathly silent.

'Here,' Moody muttered, thrusting a piece of parchment towards Harry's Disillusioned hand and holding his lit wand close to it, so as to illuminate the writing. 'Read quickly and memorise.' 

Harry looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was vaguely familiar. It said:

_'The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number nineteen, Trompore Square, London.'_


	69. Number Nineteen, Trompore Square

'What's the Order of the -?' Harry began. 

'Not here, Potter!' snarled Moody. 'Wait till we're inside!'

He pulled the piece of parchment out of Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand-tip. As the message curled into flames and floated to the ground, Harry looked around at the houses again. They were standing outside number eighteen; he looked to the left and saw number seventeen; to the right, however, was number twenty. 

'But where's -?

'Think about what you've just memorised,' said Lupin quietly. Harry thought, and no sooner had he reached the part about number nineteen, Trompore Square, than a black door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eighteen and twenty, followed swiftly by bright white walls and well kept windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. Harry gaped at it.

'Come on, hurry,' growled Moody, prodding Harry in the back. 

Harry walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialised door. Its black paint had a glossy sheen. The silver doorknocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox.

Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the door once. Harry heard many loud, metallic clicks and what sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open.

'Get in quick, Harry,' Lupin whispered.

Harry made his way into the newly appeared house. Harry was instantly struck by how regal everything seemed to be.

They were in a grand entrance Hall which stretched the width of the house. The floor, with it's gold and black marble patchwork, looked like an expensive chessboard. Leading up to the first floor was a staircase, again in black marble, with a carpet of emerald green held in place with golden stair rods. An extravagant crystal chandelier lit everything with its warm glow. The walls themselves were adorned with huge portraits of severe looking, yet incredibly attractive people. They seemed somewhat familiar to Harry.

'So ... this is the boy is it?' one of the portraits said, sneering down at Harry.

'Sure is, Gramps,' said Tonks. 'Sorry to say, but there's another blood traitor in your house.'

'Maybe for the time being, Nymphadora,' the portrait entered, 'but as soon as my dear Bellatrix takes her rightful place at head of the family -"

'Bellatrix is in Azkaban,' Sirius retorted. 'And you're merely a portrait now, a mere memory of who you once we're, so I don't even know why we entertain you with conversation.'

'I'm a ghost and you still talk to me,' came a voice from behind Harry. He spun to face the speaker, and there, sure enough, was the ghost of a handsome wizard dressed in extravagant robes, with what seemed to be a feather earring.

'That's because I like you, Uncle Alphard,' said Sirius beaming.

'Not just because of all my money, I hope,' Uncle Alphard chuckled. 'Welcome to The Slightly Less Ancient and Not Quite As Noble House of Black, Harry. I'd shake your hand, but ...'

By now the entirety of the Advanced Guard had made their way into the Entrance Hall. Harry was trying to take everything in. Clearly this was another home of the Black family. He had spent some time with Sirius and his brother, the Hogwarts Potions Master, last summer in their childhood home. As he was trying to work out who this house might belong to there was movement at the far end of the hall.

'Oh, Harry, thank goodness you're safe!' Mrs Weasley was bustling over to them and took Harry into her arms, planting a kiss on his forehead. She then turned her attention to everyone else who was assembled. 'The meeting's just about to start, you've got here just in time.'

'Right, Harry,' Sirius said, 'we've got to go to this, but I'm sure Ron and the others will bring you up to speed.'

'Now then,' said Mrs Weasley, looking around, 'where is that elf? Winky? Winky!'

There was a loud crack and Winky the house-elf Harry had met last year appeared next to Mrs Weasley, bowing deeply.

'Ah, there you are,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Could you take Harry to his room please, Winky.'

'Of course, Madame Weasley,' Winky said, bowing again. She clicked her fingers and Harry's trunk, Firebolt and Hedwig's cage began to float where they had once been on solid ground.

'We'll see you soon, Harry,' Mrs Weasley said, patting his hair down, as if in attempt to tame it. Within seconds Harry and Winky were alone in the grand entrance hall.

'If you follows Winky this way, Mr Harry Potter, sir, she will take you to your room now,' Winky said, leading the way up the stairs, Harry's things floating in front of her.

Harry was stuck at how different Winky seemed to be from when he had previously met her. She was no longer fretting nervously, nor was she upset with the loss of her post within the Crouch household.

'What are you doing here, Winky?' Harry asked.

'Winky has new masters now, Mr Potter,' Winky beamed. 'She is now in the service of the Weasley family. They treats Winky very well indeed.'

'So you won't be in the kitchens with Dobby at Hogwarts anymore then?'

Winky scowled at the sound of Dobby's name. Dobby had been in the service of the Malfoys, a pure-blood wizarding family. Harry had helped free him at the end of his second school year and ever since he had been living joyfully as a free elf, getting paid a wage from Dumbledore to work at Hogwarts. Dobby was an anomaly amongst elves though. Where he revelled in his freedom, others saw it as a failure on his part, none moreso than Winky.

A year ago she had been freed by her Master, Mr Crouch Sr because she appeared to have used a wizard's wand to conjure the image of a Dark Mark - the mark of Lord Voldemort. In reality it was Barty Crouch Jr who had escaped his father's influence who had stolen the wand and conjured the Mark.

Winky and Dobby had turned up at Hogwarts together, though she would not take payment and still wanted to return to Mr Crouch, but it would be seen as a weakness if he was to take her back, so she was to remain at Hogwarts.

'Winky will not be returning to Hogwarts, unless it is at the request of Mistress Weasley,' said Winky matter-of-factly.

Eventually they reached the third floor of the house, which remained just as beautiful as Harry continued to walk through it. Winky clicked her fingers and a door opened, through which Harry's belongings floated.

'This is you room, Mr Harry Potter, sir,' Winky said, bowing once more. Harry made his way inside.

A large window, framed by emerald velvet curtains, dominated the far wall, through which he could see into the quiet square below. Against one of the walls was a mahogany four-poster bed, with black and emerald hangings. Harry's trunk lay at its foot. Hedwig's cage meanwhile was atop a large mahogany wardrobe, whose doors had mirrors set into them so Harry could see himself in all his scruffy glory. There was more mahogany furniture in a chest of drawers and a writing desk.

'Master Ron is in the room to your left, Mr Harry Potter, sir,' said Winky. 'If you need anything, just call for Winky and Winky will be there to help. Mistress Weasley has instructed Winky to treat you as a member of her family, so you are Winky's Master too.'

'Oh, OK, thanks Winky,' said Harry, taking in his new dwellings. 'I think I'll be all right now. I'm probably just going to see Ron now, but thanks for your help.'

Winky bowed and disappointed with a large crack. Harry stretched and left his new room. He knocked on Ron's door. Harry heard movement and voices from inside the room, the doorknob twisted and the door opened. Harry found himself looking at the long nosed, freckled face of his best friend.

'Harry!' he beamed. 'You're here! Good to see you mate, come in.'

Harry entered Ron's room, as equally grand as his own, and looked around at the faces within. Sat cross-legged on the bed were Hermione and - Harry's heart gave a little somersault - Ginny, both beaming at him. Harry noticed that Hermione was wearing braces in an attempt to bring her prominent front teeth under control. In a chair next to the bed was Neville Longbottom, next to him the twins, Fred and George Weasley, were perched atop the chest of drawers. And there, sat at the writing desk, where Ron's owl, Merlin was roosting, was someone Harry hadn't expected to see; Draco Malfoy.

'You probably want to bring a chair in with you,' Draco said.

'Oh, don't worry,' said Ron, 'I've got it. Winky!'

With a crack Winky appeared and bowed to Ron.

'Get us a chair for Harry,' Ron said.

Winky clicked her fingers and a chair appeared next to Harry.

'Alright, you can leave us now,' said Ron. With a crack Winky left them.

'Ron!' Hermione shouted from the bed, throwing a pillow at him. 'You've got to be nicer to Winky!'

'What?' said Ron. 'She loves it! You know she's happy to be someone's house-elf again!'

'That still doesn't stop you from saying please and thank you!' said Hermione angrily. 'Besides it would have taken Harry seconds to go and get his own chair from his room to bring in here. You shouldn't just use Winky for menial tasks like that.'

'Why is Winky here anyway?' Harry asked.

'Well,' said Ron, 'd'you remember when Professor Black spoke to mum just before your third task?' Harry cast his mind back. So much had happened that night he'd completely forgotten about this moment. 'Well apparently Kreacher had told him how badly Winky was coping without a master, and Professor Black thought mum might appreciate the help around the house.'

Hermione tutted. She had spent a lot of the previous year advocating for the freedom and rights of house-elves.

'How are you, Harry?' she asked in concern, changing the subject.

'Alright, yeah,' Harry said, 'Glad to be away from the Dursleys. But at least I had Sirius with me this time. I think I'd have gone mad being away from you so long this summer. Where are we anyway?'

'This is my grandfather's house,' said Draco. 'He left it to mother when he died. She was his only child not in prison or disowned. When Dumbledore needed a headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, he and Uncle Regulus - er, Professor Black, that is - convinced her to let them use here. No one would suspect the headquarters to be here.'

Although Harry was amazed that Narcissa Malfoy had been convinced to join Dumbledore's secret organization, he had to admit that Draco had a point. Harry couldn't think of a less likely place, except for perhaps the home of an actual Death Eater.

'So what is the Order of the Phoenix?' Harry asked.

'Dumbledore founded it,' said Neville from across the room. 'It's a group of wizards standing against You-Know-Who. Most of the members are from the last time he was around. My parents were part of it back then ... so were yours ...'

'So who's in it this time?' said Harry quickly, not wanting to dwell on his parents - who had been killed by Voldemort - or Neville's - who had been tortured to insanity by his followers after he disappeared.

'Quite a few people,' Hermione said.

'We've met about twenty,' said Ron.

'What have they been meeting about?' Harry asked.

'Dunno,' said Fred. 'We're not allowed in the meetings.'

'We tried using the new Extendable Ears we made,' said George. 'But, Mad-Eye saw us using them and mum put an Imperturbable Charm on the doors.'

'Shame really,' said Fred. 'I want to know what Professor Black's been up to.'

'Have they been spying on him?' Harry asked.

'No,' said Ginny, 'he's in the Order!'

'What? But he wasn't at Hogwarts during the final task? The one where I was taken to Voldemort and all his old Death Eaters were there. Surely Dumbledore doesn't believe -'

'He was helping mother that night,' Draco interrupted. 'That's why he was missing. He was helping her move in here.'

'Oh ...' said Harry. 'Right ...'

'How're you feeling about the hearing, Harry?' Neville asked.

'Oh, Harry doesn't need to worry about that,' Hermione said before Harry could answer. 'I've been reading into the laws and there's a provision in the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations, so you'll be absolutely fine.'

'Good to know,' Harry laughed - partly because it was so like Hermione to have looked up the laws, and partly in the relief he felt in her confidence that he'd be returning to Hogwarts.

At that moment there was a tapping noise at the window Neville jumped and dropped Trevor, who hopped under the bed. Harry made his was across to the window and let Hedwig in. He had let her out last night to hunt. She always seemed to know where to find him. She nibbled his ear affectionately before settling down with Merlin at the writing desk.

'Ouch,' said Neville as he banged his head on the bed as he tried to retrieve Trevor.

'We can't let them out too much,' Ron said. 'Dumbledore says that too much owl activity in the Square will look suspicious.'

'You've seen Dumbledore then?' said Harry, starting to get disappointed that he hadn't heard anything from the Headmaster himself. He thought that he might have been in touch over the summer considering what Harry had witnessed in June.

'He's been in and out, but never stays long,' said Ginny.

'So you and Sirius are related?' Harry said to Draco, searching for another subject.

'Yeah,' said Draco. 'Him and Professor Black are my mother's cousins.'

'How come you never mentioned it before?' Harry asked.

'Well it's not like I knew Sirius growing up,' Draco said. 'And although he was around the house a lot when I was younger, it's not like Uncle Regulus ever gave me preferential treatment at Hogwarts. Could you imagine what people might have said if they knew we were related?'

'So that makes you Tonks's ... cousin?' Harry said, trying to work out in his head.

'That's right,' said Draco. 'Her mother was disowned by grandfather for marrying a muggle-born. So, again, I never knew her growing up.'

The group fell into silence again. Harry had expected to have long conversations about what had been happening in the wizarding world since he and Sirius had been at the Dursleys', but it seemed they knew as much as he did. Still, it was nice to see everyone, and nice to see Ron and Draco getting on well. They had always had the most animosity towards one another, until the end of the last school year where Draco had extended the hand of friendship.

They chatted amiably for a while. It was nice not to have to worry about the outside world for a bit, though it wasn't as if Harry didn't learn some new pieces of information. Bill Weasley, the eldest of the Weasley children, had returned to London in an attempt to sway the Goblins to side against Voldemort. Fleur Delacour, a French witch who Harry had faced in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, had also found a job at Gringotts alongside Bill, in order to improve her English. Charlie, the second oldest of the Weasley children, remained in Romania where he looked after dragons. Dumbledore understood the importance of maintaining relations with foreign wizards. Percy meanwhile, the third eldest of the Weasley children, had had a promotion within the Ministry and was now Junior Secretary to Madame Bones, the Minister of Magic. From all accounts he was enjoying his new position, though the twins were worried because he wasn't as pompous as he had been when he'd secured his previous position as the Department of International Cooperation.

Harry was just about to ask Neville whether he'd got a new wand yet, after his previous wand that had belonged to his father had broken at the end of last term, when a head popped up through the bedroom floor.

'The meeting's over,' said Uncle Alphard, 'Mrs Weasley says you can all come down for dinner now.'

'Oh, great!' said Fred. 'I'm starving!' And with two loud pops he and George vanished from the chest of drawers on which they were sat.

'They've both passed their Apparation test,' Ginny explained, rolling her eyes. 'They don't walk anywhere now.'

As the others were not yet of age though, they had no choice but to descend the stairs on foot. Entering the dining room, Harry was once again blown over by the sheer size of the house. The table, made entirely of glass, was almost the length of the house tables in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Similarly the ceiling was enchanted, though this one depicted a galaxy of stars, some shining brighter than others. The table itself was laid with silver, serpentine candlesticks that gave a soft glow to the room. The cutlery was also silver, and the plates were fine China which had a jade pattern depicting a scene from an ancient Chinese tale about a young couple who meet a Fenghuang.

Harry looked at the group of people taking their seats at the table. Most he recognised, though a few he didn't, including a squat, unshaven man who was talking with the twins. He had long straggly ginger hair and bloodshot, baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of a basset hound. At the head of the table was Narcissa Malfoy, and next to her was Harry's potion teacher, Professor Black.


	70. The Order of the Phoenix

'Good evening, Harry,' said Professor Black smoothly, his cold eyes boring into Harry. 'I think you've met my dear cousin, Narcissa before, haven't you?'

Harry nodded. The Malfoys had been in the same box at the Quidditch World Cup last year.

'Please, take a seat,' Professor Black continued, gesturing to the empty places along the table. Harry took his place next to Sirius at the far end of the table, his Uncle Alphard floating at the foot of the table. Opposite Harry and Sirius were the Weasley twins and on Fred's right was the unshaven man Harry had noticed earlier.

'This is Mungdungus Fletcher, Harry,' Fred said. 'He's great at getting hold of ingredients for our products that we might otherwise struggle to find.'

'Pleasure to meet you, 'Arry,' said Mungdungus. He fumbled around his pockets and pulled out a grimy black pipe. He stuck it in his mouth, ignited the end of it with his wand and took a deep pull on on it. Great billowing clouds of greenish smoke obscured him within seconds.

'For the last time, Mungdungus,' called Mrs Weasley,' 'will you please not smoke that thing when we're about to eat!'

'Ah,' said Mungdungus from the middle of the smelly cloud. 'Right. Sorry, Molly.'

The cloud of smoke vanished as Mungdungus stowed his pipe in his pocket.

Ginny had taken the seat next to Harry, with Hermione on her left. Opposite them were Ron, Neville, and Tonks, who was entertaining them by transforming her nose between mouthfuls. Screwing up her eyes each time with the same pained expression she had worn back in Harry's bedroom, her nose swelled to a beak-like protuberance that resembled a toucan, shrank to the size of a button mushroom and then sprouted a great deal of hair from each nostril. Apparently this was a regular mealtime entertainment, because Hermione and Ginny were soon requesting their favourite noses.

'Do that one like a pig snout, Tonks.'

Tonks obliged, and Harry, looking up, had the fleeting impression that a female Dudley was grinning at him from across the table.

Further along the table Remus, Mr Weasley, Bill and Percy were having an intense discussion about goblins.

'They're not giving anything away yet,' said Bill. 'I still can't work out whether or not they believe he's back. Course, they might prefer not to take sides at all. Keep out of it.'

'I'm sure they'd never go over to You-Know-Who,' said Mr Weasley, shaking his head. 'They've suffered losses too ... remember that goblin family he murdered last time, somewhere near Nottingham?'

'I think it depends what they're offered,' said Remus. 'And I'm not talking about gold. If they're offered the freedoms we've been denying them for centuries they're going to be tempted. Have you still not had any luck with Ragnok, Bill?'

'Not, yet,' said Bill, 'but I feel he could be swayed.'

'Well Madam Bones is much more open to working with the goblins than Fudge ever was,' said Percy, 'which can only be a good thing. She understands the importance of working with them.'

'Yes,' said Remus darkly, 'well, after what happened to her brother the last time, it doesn't surprise me she's taking Dumbledore's advice seriously.'

Suddenly, in the middle of the table, a large spread of food appeared.

'Ah, wonderful,' said Sirius. 'It looks like the house-elves have been hard at work.'

Harry couldn't help but notice the look Hermione shot at Sirius, but he felt sure he was the only one who had noticed - everyone else at Harry's end of the table was engrossed in a story the Mungdungus was telling.

'And then if you'll believe it,' Mundungus said, tears running down his face, ''e says to me, 'e says, "'Ere, Dung, where didja get all them toads from? Cos some son of a Bludgers gone and nicked all mine!" And I says, "Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you'll be wanting some more, then?" And if you'll believe me, the gormless gargoyle buys all 'is own toads back orf me for a lot more'n what 'e paid in the first place -'

'I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings, thank you very much, Mundungus,' said Mrs Weasley sharply, as Ron slumped forwards on to the table, howling with laughter.

'Beg pardon, Molly,' said Mundungus at once, wiping his eyes and winking at Harry. 'But, you know, Will nicked 'em orf Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn't really doing nothing wrong.'

'I don't know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seem to have missed a few crucial lessons,' said Mrs Weasley coldly.

Fred and George buried their faces in their goblets of Butterbeer: George was hiccoughing. For some reason, Mrs Weasley threw a very nasty look at Sirius before helping herself to some may potato. Harry looked round at his godfather.

'Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus,' said Sirius in an undertone. 

'How come he's in the Order?' Harry said, very quietly.

'He's useful,' Sirius muttered. 'Knows all the crooks - well, he would, seeing as he's one himself. But he's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don't. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far.'

Mrs Weasley didn't seem to be the only one unhappy with having Mungdungus at the table. As she delicately sliced her roast beef at the other end of the table, Narcissa Malfoy seemed to be looking down her nose in a sneering fashion at the crook.

Next to her Draco ate his dinner in silence, not once looking up to talk to any of the three adults he was surrounded by. Professors Black and Moody were in a deep conversation, Moody's magical eye whizzing around its socket. Mrs Weasley was talking to an older lady that Harry hadn't recognised at first glance. Whenever he had seen her in the past she had worn a large hat with a vulture atop it, but as he looked closer her recognised her as Neville's gran.

Three helpings of dessert later (spotted dick, treacle tart _and_ rhubarb crumble and custard) and the waistband on Harry's jeans was feeling uncomfortably tight (which saying something as the jeans had once been Dudley's). As he laid down his spoon there was a lull in the general conversation: Mr Weasley was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed; Tonks was yawning widely, her nose now back to normal; and Ginny, who had lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling Butterbeer corks for him to chase.

'Nearly time for bed, I think,' said Mrs Weasley with a yawn.

'Not just yet, Molly,' said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. 'You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about what's been going on.'

The atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity Harry associated with the arrival of Dementors. Where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. A frisson had gone around the table at the mention of Voldemort's name.

Remus, who had been about to take a sip of wine lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.

'I did,' said Harry, 'when you had your meeting. But everyone said we're not allowed in the Order, so -'

'And they're quite right,' said Mrs Weasley. 'You're too young.'

She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched together, every trace of drowsiness gone.

'Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?' asked Sirius. 'Harry's been trapped with me in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happening.'

'Hang on,' interrupted George loudly. 

'How come Harry gets his questions answered?' said Fred angrily. 

'We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!' George said.

'"You're too young, you're not in the Order,"' said Fred, in a high pitched voice that sounded uncannily like his mother's. 'Harry's not even of age!'

'It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing,' said Sirius calmly, 'that's your parents decision. Harry, on the other hand -'

'It's not down to you to decide whats good for Harry!' said Mrs Weasley sharply. The expression on her normally kind face looked dangerous. 'You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said?'

'Which bit?' Sirius asked politely, but with the air of a man readying himself for a fight. 

'The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know,' said Mrs Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words.

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Fred and George's heads swivelled from Sirius to Mrs Weasley as though they were following a tennis rally. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned Butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Remus and Professor Black's eyes were fixed on Sirius.

'I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know. Molly,' said Sirius. 'But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back,' (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name) 'he has more right than most to -'

'He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!' said Mrs Weasley. 'He's only fifteen and -'

'And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order,' said Sirius, 'and more than some.'

'No one's denying what he's done!' said Mrs Weasley, her voice rising, her hands trembling on the edge of the table. 'But he's still -'

'He's not a child!' said Sirius impatiently

'He's not an adult either!' said Mrs Weasley, the colour rising in her cheeks. 'He's not James, Sirius!'

'I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly,' said Sirius coldly.

'I'm not sure you are!' said Mrs Weasley. 'Galavanting around with him this last month. Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!'

'What's wrong with that?' said Harry.

'What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!' said Mrs Weasley, her eyes still boring into Simus. 'You are still at school and adults responsible should not forget it!'

'Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?' demanded Sirius, his voice rising. 

'Meaning you have been known to act rashly, Sirius.'

'Molly's right, Sirius,' said Professor Black from his seat at the far end of the table. Though he did not raise his voice, it carried clearly across the room. 'The children are still at Hogwarts. They do not need to be burdened with the work of the Order.'.

'You don't get a say in this Regulus,' snarled Sirius. 'Harry has nothing to do with you.'

'I am his teacher,' Professor Black said cooly,' therefore he is my responsibility. '

'He's my godson,' Sirius snapped.

There was a silence as the Black brothers stared viciously at one another.

'That's not the point, Sirius,' said Mrs Weasley. 'He's still too young.' She rounded on her husband. 'Arthur, back me up.'

Mr Weasley did not speak at once. He took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on his robes, not looking at his wife. Only when he had replaced them carefully on his nose did he reply. 'Dumbledore knows the position has changed. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in, to a certain extent, now that he is staying at Headquarters.'

'Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!'

'Personally,' said Lupin quietly looking away from Sirius at last, as Mrs Weasley turned quickly to him, hopeful that she was about to get another ally, 'I think it better that Harry gets the facts - not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture from us, rather than a garbled version from others.'

'What you fail to take into consideration,' said Neville's gran sternly, 'is that if Harry learns what's been going on, he will no doubt talk to the rest of them, meaning that myself and Narcissa have a stake in this conversation.'

'Exactly!' said Mrs Weasley. 'And I don't think Ginny should be involved in this yet. She's only fourteen for goodness sake!'

'Draco's heard worse - seen worse - from his father,' said Narcissa quietly. 'I have no objections. Out of respect for you Molly I've not spoken to Draco about our meetings, but personally I think they should be aware of what's going on out there.'

'Well Augusta and I -'

'Don't presume to speak for me, Molly,' said Mrs Longbottom sharply, narrowing her eyes at Mrs Weasley. 'I happen to agree with Narcissa. Neville has had to grow up with what they did to his parents. He has a right to know what we're doing to stop Voldemort and his followers.'

Another shudder ran around the table. Harry's respect for Neville's gran reached new heights. There weren't many in the wizarding world who dated say Voldemort's name out loud, yet, despite what happened to her son and daughter-in-law, Mrs Longbottom said it with a casual air.

'Oh pull yourselves together,' she chastised those around the table. 'It's only a name. I remember him when he was Tom Riddle, and a slimy worm he was back then, too.'

'Well,' said Mrs Weasley, breathing deeply, 'well. I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart -'

'He's not your son,' said Sirius quietly.

'He's as good as,' said Mrs Weasley fiercely. 'Who else has he got?'

'He's got me!'

'Enough!' said Remus sharply. 'Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry, Sirius, sit down.' 

Mrs Weasley's lower lip was trembling. Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white. 

'I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this Remus continued, 'he's old enough to decide for himself.'

'I want to know what's been going on,' Harry said at once. He did not look at Mrs Weasley. He had been touched by what she had said about his being as good as a son, but he was also impatient with her  
mollycoddling. Sirius was right, he was not a child

'Very well,' said Mrs Weasley, her voice cracking,' Ginny - Ron - Hermione - Fred - George - I want you out of this dining room, now.'

There was instant uproar.

'We're of age!' Fred and George bellowed together.

,'If Harry's allowed, why can't I?' shouted Ron.

'Mum, I want to hear!' wailed Ginny

'NO!' shouted Mrs Weasley, standing up, her eyes overbright. 'I absolutely forbid -'

'Molly, you can't stop Fred and George,'said Mr Weasley wearily. 'They are of age.'

'They're still at school.'

'But they're legally adults now,' said Mr Weasley, in the same tired voice.

Mrs Weasley was now scarlet in the face.

'I - oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron -

'And you stop the others,' sighed Mr Weasley. 'Augusta's already pointed out that Harry will pass on everything we tell him.

'Fine!' shouted Mrs Weasley putting her hands up in defeat. 'Fine!'

She folded her arms and sunk into her seat glowering at everyone around her.

'OK,' said Sirius. 'Harry, what do you want to know?'

Harry took a deep breath and asked the question that had obsessed him for the last month.

'Where's Voldemort?' he said, ignoring the renewed shudders nd winces at the name. 'What's he doing? Sirius and I were keeping an eye on the Prophet, but there's not been any funny deaths or anything.'

'That's because there haven't been any funny deaths yet,' said Sirius, 'not as far as we know, anyway and we know quite a lot.'

'More than he thinks we do, anyway,' said Remus.

'How come he's stopped killing people?' Harry asked. He knew Voldemort had murdered more than once in the last year alone.

'Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself, said Sirius. 'It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't come off quite the way he wanted it to you see. He messed it up.'

'Or rather, you messed it up for him,' said Remus, with a satisfied smile.

'How?' Harry asked, perplexed.

'You weren't supposed to survive!' said Sirius. 'Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness.'

'And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore,' said Remus. 'And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once.'

'How has that helped?' Harry asked.

'Are you kidding?' said Bill incredulously. 'Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of!'

'Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned,' said Sirius. 

'So, what's the Order been doing?' said Harry, looking around at them all.

'Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans,' said Sirius.

'How d'you know what his plans are?' Harry asked quickly.

'Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea,' said Remus, 'and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate.'

'So what does Dumbledore reckon he planning?

'Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again,' said Sirius, 'in the old days he had huge numbers at his command whitches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters,' (at this he looked purposefully at his brother and cousin), 'a great variety of Dark creatures. He's planning to recruit the giants, well, they'll be just one of the groups he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters.'

'So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?'

We're doing our best,' said Remus's. 

'How?'

'Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard,' said Bill, it's proving tricky, though.' 

'Why? The Prophet reported on his return ... Barty Crouch's trial should surely convince people ...'

'People are stupid,' said Mrs Longbottom. 'They don't want to believe he's back. They remember the last time, and would rather it not happen again. But rather than rally behind Dumbledore they'd prefer to ignore the signs. There are still many in the Ministry and the wider wizarding world loyal to Fudge. He's convinced a lot of people that it's a conspiracy of Dumbledore's to discredit him, that Amelia Bones is merely a puppet Minister. And people believe him.'

'But why?' said Harry desperately. 'Why's he being so stupid?'

'Fudge thinks Dumbledore's been plotting to overthrow him for a while now,' said Mr Weasley. 'He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister for Magic.

'But Dumbledore doesn't want -'

'Of course he doesn't,' said Mr Weasley. 'He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job.'

'Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice,' said Remus. 'But it seems he became a bit too fond of power. He loved being Minister for Magic and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it.'

'How can he think that?' said Harry angrily. 'How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up - that I'd make it all up?'

'Because he's lost that power now and needs someone to blame,' said Sirius bitterly, 

'Thankfully, Madame Bones is taking the threat seriously,' said Percy. 'Dumbledore has already managed to convince her to dismiss the Dementors at Azkaban. He knows they'll jump at the chance to join You-Know-Who.'

'Why?' asked Harry.

'Use your brain, Potter,' said Moody. 'All that fear that Voldemort will instill once he's back at full power'll be like a buffet for them. Scrimgeour's installed Aurors at Azkaban keeping their eye on things. But after what happened last week I think we swapped the Dementors out just in time. I can hardly bear to think what a full blown Azkaban breakout might look like. There's some nasty Death Eaters in there.'

'But if Voldemort's taken the Dementors surely people will know he's back?'

'The Ministry hasn't gone public with their dismissal yet,' said Tonks. 'They think it might turn the public against them. A lot of people sleep soundly at night trusting that the Dementors are protecting Azkaban.'

'But if he's trying to recruit more Death Eaters, people are bound to realise that he's come back, aren't they?' asked Harry desperately. 

'Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry,' said Sirius. 'He tricks, jinxes and black mails them. He's well-practised at operating in secret. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in. He's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on those for the moment.'

'What's he after apart from followers?' Harry asked swiftly. He thought he saw Sirius and Remus exchange the most fleeting of looks before Sirius answered.

'Stuff he can only get by stealth.'

When Harry continued to look puzzled, Sirius said, 'Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time.'

'When he was powerful before?'

'Yes.'

'What kind of weapon?' said Harry, Something worse than the Avada Kedavra -?'

'That's enough!' Mrs Weasley stood up abruptly. She looked furious. 'I want you in bed, now. All of you,' she added, looking around the table, daring anyone to argue with her. 

'You can't boss us -' Fred began

'Watch me,' snarled Mrs Weasley. She was trembling slightly as she looked at Sirius. 'You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway.'

'Why not?' said Harry quickly. 'I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight.'

'No.

It was not Mrs Weasley who spoke this time, but Remus.

'The Order is comprised only of overage wizards,' he said. 'Wizards who have left school,' he added, as Fred and George opened their mouths. 'There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you ... I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough.'

Sirius half-shrugged but did not argue, Mrs Weasley beckoned imperiously to her children and Hermione. One by one they stood up, and Harry, recognising defeat, followed suit.


	71. Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus

Harry felt sure he would not be able to sleep that night; the evening had been so packed with things to think about that he fully expected to lie awake for hours mulling it all over. He wanted to sneak into Ron's room and talk more about what this weapon that Voldemort was looking for might be, but he could still hear Mrs Weasley patrolling the corridor, to make sure they all stayed in their rooms.

He finally heard her making her way back down the stairs again, and soon after that he distinctly heard others making their way upstairs ... in fact many-legged creatures were cantering softly up and down outside the bedroom door, and Hagrid the Care of Magical Creatures teacher was saying, 'Beauties, aren' they, eh, Harry? We'll be studyin' weapons this term ...' and Harry saw that the creatures had cannons for heads and we're wheeling to face him ... he ducked .. 

The next thing he knew, he was curled into a warm ball under his bedclothes and George's loud voice was filling the room announcing breakfast.

The next few days passed easily enough. Being around his friends took Harry's mind off of the looming hearing he and Sirius were about to attend. Harry was particularly pleased that Ron and Draco were getting on. Ron had been the last to accept that Draco had changed from the bully he had been in their first year at Hogwarts, but it would seem that after Draco stood up against his Slytherin housemates last year that Ron's opinion had changed completely. Now they were as close as anyone in their little group was, and not one would you assume that Draco had been anything but a close ally.

Members of the Order came and went both day and night and Harry met most of them, some old faces, some new. Everytime he met someone for the first time they seemed very excited to shake his hand. Professor McGonagall, Harry's Transfiguration teacher, had turned up one day, looking very odd in a Muggle dress and coat, though she had been too busy to linger.

One day Mungdungus arrived with a stack of precariously balanced cauldrons, which they found out from Mrs Weasley's shouting, were stolen. ('I love hearing Mum shouting at someone else,' said Fred, with a satisfied smile on his face as he leant on the landing bannister, to hear the full force of Mrs Weasley's voice, 'it makes a nice change.')

Winky seemed happier than Harry had ever known her to be, glad at last to have a wizarding family to work for, though she left the room any time Hermione walked in. Kreacher would also come and go, though independently of Professor Black who he claimed was his true Master, despite Sirius's seniority. This seemed to suit Sirius well though; as he had told Harry before, he had never cared much for the house-elf, though found him much more tolerable since Sirius had escaped from Azkaban.

On the night of the tenth Sirius entered Harry's room and shook him gently awake.

'It's a full moon, Harry,' he whispered. 'It's time to lose the leaf.'

Harry pulled on his dressing gown and slippers and the two of them crept out of Harry's room and down the stairs. Sirius made Harry take off his slippers so they didn't wake anyone as they crossed the marble floor. As his bare feet hit the cold floor Harry wished he had put some socks on too.

'Now we have to be careful here,' Sirius whispered when they reached the front door. 'As soon as we exit the the house you're no longer under it's protection. However we need to be under the rays of the moon to do this properly and they're brightest on the park. But we'll be quick enough.'

Sirius pulled a vial out of his cloak.

'Once we get into the moonlight you need to spit the leaf into this. That's all there is to it. Like I said we'll be quick enough. You ready?'

Harry nodded and Sirius opened the door. He glanced outside, but no one was around. He beckoned Harry to follow and they race across the cool night air to the grassy park, where they were bathed in moonlight. Sirius passed Harry the vial who took it and very carefully spat his Mandrake leaf that he'd been carry around in his mouth for a month into it. His mouth felt weirdly empty without it.

'Perfect,' said Sirius, 'now let's get back before anyone sees us.' 

They raced back across to number nineteen and slipped back inside, gently closing the door behind them. Quietly they crept back upstairs and into Harry's room.

'Right then,' Sirius whispered once they were inside and the door was closed. 'Hold the vial out. I'm going to cast a spell, then you need to press the vial against a corner of your trunk, all right? It'll stick there '

Harry nodded and held the vial out at arm's length.

' _Viscosio_ ' said Sirius. Harry then pressed the vial against a corner of his trunk and took his hand away. Sure enough the vial stayed where it was.

'Perfect,' said Sirius. 'Now all you have to do is take your wand at sundown and sunrise every day, place it over your heart, and say these four words: Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus. Then, when there is next a lightning storm, take the vial - it'll stay where it is until you touch it when it will come away easily - find somewhere safe and quiet - maybe the Shrieking Shack like we did - recite those four words once again, and drink the potion. You'll turn into an animal, it's as simple as that. Just remember to focus on who you really are so nothing goes wrong and you don't get stuck as an animal. I don't think anyone would forgive me for that.'

Sirius left Harry's room and by wandlight Harry wrote his instructions down. Now all he had to do was stay awake until sunrise. If he fell asleep now, there was no way he'd wake up for it.

He started off reading a book Ginny had bought him for his birthday - _Heroes of the Harpies_ , a history of stars of the Holyhead Harpies, an all women's Quidditch team, but soon the words began to blend into one and he found himself re-reading the same paragraph over and over again.

He decided to stretch his legs. After being awake for a while he found himself quite peckish, so he pulled on his dressing gown again and made his way down to the kitchen to get himself a slice of toast.

This time there was a tapping sound as Harry crossed the marble floor in his slippers. He paused by the dining room door as he reached it, listening, but no one had stirred. He passed through the large dining room, which looked incredibly eerie in the darkness, and made his way into the kitchen. He turned on the grill and put two slices of bread underneath it. Whilst his bread toasted he helped himself to a glass of water. 

He looked at his watch. It was half past four.

He ate his toast listening to the sounds of the kitchen around him. The drip of the tap, the tick of the clock. He got to thinking what animal he might turn into once the transformation was complete. Harry thought he might quite like to be a bird of some sort, like an owl; soaring through the sky without the need of a broomstick was hugely appealing. Then he thought he might become a stag like his father. It was his Patronus after all, and Sirius shared his Patronus with his dog form. He wouldn't want to find himself as a beetle like Rita Skeeter or a Rat like Wormtail, nothing so low to the ground.

Could animagus become a magical creature perhaps? It wasn't something he'd ever considered before now. He would have to ask Sirius when they next found themselves alone. He'd always liked Dumbledore's Phoenix Fawkes, but the idea of becoming a Blast Ended Skrewt was not something that Harry enjoyed.

Finally the early days of the sun bled into the kitchen through its window. Harry placed his wand over his heart and recited the four words Sirius had given him.

' _Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus!_ '

Finally, with a stretch and a yawn he returned to his room where he fell into a restful slumber.


	72. Fallout

Harry found himself waking at half past ten and made his way downstairs for breakfast.

'Good afternoon, Harry,' said Mrs Weasley as he entered the kitchen. 'You must've all need your sleep last night with how late everyone's waking up this morning!'

Harry shared a look with Sirius who was wolfing down some porridge.

'I completely understand Remus having a lie in,' Mrs Weasley continued, piling some bacon high on a plate. 'I can imagine even with the Wolfsbane potion a full moon takes it out of you. Here you go, dear, this will get you your energy back in no time.'

'Thank you, Molly,' Remus said kindly, as he tucked into his hearty breakfast.

'And heaven only knows where the twins are! If they keep this up they're not going to pass their N.E.W.Ts this year, are they?'

Harry poured himself a tea from the pot at the kitchen table and sat himself next to Sirius.

'Now, Harry, would you like eggs for breakfast this morning? Winky collected them fresh from the Burrow this morning, you know.'

'Sounds good, thank you,' said Harry. 'Can I get them scrambled?'

'Of course, dear.'

Mrs Weasley began plating Harry's breakfast.

'You'll have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, Harry,' said Remus sagely. 'You don't want to be late for the hearing, do you?'

'Oh, I'm sure that won't be a problem, will it, Harry?' said Sirius, winking.

'Yeah, no, I can't imagine why I slept in so long this morning!' Harry yawned. 'How are we getting to the Ministry?'

'We'll be going with Arthur on his way into work,' said Sirius. 'The hearing's at nine, but we'll have to leave at six thirty. We'll be taking the tube in rush hour so will need plenty of time to get there - oh, hello you!'

Crookshanks had just entered the kitchen and jumped up onto Sirius's lap.

'I wouldn't worry about that today,' said Mrs Weasley as she placed Harry's breakfast in front of him. 'Eat your breakfast, get dressed, and enjoy the sunshine. I think Ron and Draco are seeing up a Gobstones tournament in the garden. Now where are those boys? Winky!'

With a crack the house-elf appeared.

'Yes, Mistress Weasley,' she said, bowing.

'Winky, can you go and wake Fred and George up and tell them that if they want breakfast they'd better get down here in the next five minutes otherwise they'll have to go hungry.'

'Of course, Mistress.'

With a crack Winky disappeared. Two minutes later there were two more cracks as the twins Apparated into the kitchen themselves. George was a ghastly shade of green.

'Good morning, Mother,' Fred said cheerfully. 'What are our breakfast options this fine day?'

'You'll sit down and get what your given!' said Mrs Weasley sharply. 'And I don't know how many times I have to tell you to stop using magic for every little thing. Just because you can Apparate, doesn't mean you should!'

The twins sat down at the table opposite Harry and Sirius.

'So it worked with the dragon claw then?' said Sirius quietly.

'Oh, yeah,' said George with a smile. 'We were up all night perfecting it.'

'So far he's been like that for -'

'Oh, for goodness sake!'

Mrs Weasley cut across what Fred was saying. She had finally turned around from the stove and seen George in all his green glory.

'I don't know how many times I have to tell you to stop with this joke nonsense!' she shouted. 'I try and I try to get you to focus on your schoolwork, but no matter how much I attempt to steer you in the right direction you still can't help yourselves! You'll never get good jobs like your brothers have at this rate! And you think you're mature enough to join the Order do you? And as for _you_!' At this Mrs Weasley turned and pointed at Sirius. 'You only encourage them! Well you might have enough family gold to fall back on so you don't have to work, and that's all well and good, but my boys don't have that luxury, I'm sorry to say!'

'Molly, that's not fair -' Sirius began.

'Fair? Fair? Do you think it's fair to fill my sons' heads with foolish notions of owning a joke shop? Do you think it's fair to distract them from working hard and getting good grades so they can make something of themselves? I have slaved away to raise my children in the hope that they get a better life than Arthur and I were afforded, and for the most part I thought I'd succeeded. But then you come along and undo all my hard work, everything I've instilled into them you waved away!'

Harry had never seen Mrs Weasley so upset before now. Even the twins looked worried. Remus was watching carefully, but remained still and quiet. Sirius however chose this moment to stand.

'How dare you suggest that I'm trying to lead them astray!' he said, slamming his hands onto the table. 'I have nothing but respect for these boys. They are two of the most brilliant inventors I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I don't think it's going too far to say that they're geniuses! The hard work and dedication they have put in to making these jokes of theirs work is monumental. I think you need to reevaluate what's important, Molly. Fred and George love what they do and can one hundred per cent make a successful business from it and bring joy to others, and God knows we're going to need a few laughs in the days to come! You might not think it's as prestigious as working for the Ministry or Gringotts or looking after dragons, but that doesn't mean it won't be any less important or worthy.'

Sirius and Mrs Weasley looked at one another for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally Mrs Weasley broke away. She threw Fred and George's breakfasts in the bin then, with a wave of her wand, filled the sink with pots and soapy water, and began washing up. Sirius remained stood at the table. Remus got up and steered him out of the kitchen.

Harry passed what remained on his plate to the twins so they'd at least have something to eat, but Mrs Weasley must have heard in the silence of the kitchen as with her back still turned, she said, 'Don't you dare, Harry. That's your breakfast, and my son's have decided they'd rather fend for themselves.'

Harry mouthed a 'sorry' to Fred and George who gestured for him not to worry. He scoffed down the last of his mushrooms, gave his plate to Mrs Weasley, thanked her for breakfast and went to get dressed. As he closed the kitchen door he heard the argument start up again.

Once he had changed out of his pyjamas he went to find his friends in the garden. The garden itself was incredibly long and narrow, with a number of magical plants. Minding the Venemous Tentacular on his way, Harry found the Gobstones tournament at the very bottom of the garden, by the pond, where Trevor had settled himself on a lily pad.

'Oh perfect,' said Ron. 'We wondered where you'd got to mate. You're up next against Ginny, so good luck, no one's beaten her yet!'

Ginny easily beat Harry, but he didn't mind, he was just glad to have something to take his mind off of the events of that morning. They carried on playing well into the afternoon, only pausing when Winky brought them some sandwiches and Butterbeer. Even Bill and Tonks joined them for a few rounds after they finished work.

Tonks left he house immediately after dinner that evening, something about working the night shift. The atmosphere between Mrs Weasley and Fred, George and Sirius was still tense, though Remus tried his best to involve everyone in conversation. Eventually Mrs Weasley ordered everyone to bed, citing the early start they had the next day. Harry was glad to get away, apparently the twins had kept quiet so far about the thousand Galleons Harry had given them at the end of the school year to help with their joke shop. He dread to think how Mrs Weasley might react if she were to find out.

At sundown Harry repeated the four words Sirius had given him, then settled into his bed, willing the hearing the next day to go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Christmas Day there's a special short story coming. It will be a separate fic, but the first in the 'Professor Black Extras' series that I'll be creating, which will be supplementary to the main body. So if you like this, I think you'll enjoy what I add over there.


	73. The Ministry of Magic

Harry awoke at quarter to five the next morning, ready to perform the incantation at sunrise. As he waited he lay immobile as the prospect of the disciplinary hearing filled every tiny particle of his brain. Everyone seemed confident that he and Sirius would be fine, but what if they weren't? What would happen if Harry got expelled from Hogwarts? Would he have to return to Little Whinging and live with the Dursleys? Would he have to attend a Muggle school? 

He unable to bear the thought of it any longer so he leapt out of bed and put on his glasses. Mrs Weasley had laid out his freshly laundered jeans and T-shirt at the foot of his bed. Harry scrambled into them. 

Once Harry had said his four words he crossed the room, stepped out on to the landing and closed the door softly behind him. Harry walked quietly down the stairs and into the kitchen. He had expected it to be empty, but when he reached the door he heard the soft rumble of voices on the other side. He pushed it open and saw Mr and Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Remus and Tonks sitting there almost as though they were waiting for him. All were fully dressed except Mrs Weasley, who was wearing a quilted purple dressing gown. She leapt to her feet the moment Harry entered.

'Breakfast,' she said as she pulled out her wand and hurried over to the fire.

'M - m - morning, Harry,' yawned Tonks. Her hair was blonde and curly this morning. 'Sleep all right?'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'I've b-b- been up all night,' she said, with another shuddering yawn. 'Come and sit down ...'

She drew out a chair, knocking over the one beside it in the process.

'What do you want, Harry?' Mrs Weasley called. 'Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?'

'Just toast, thanks,' said Harry.

Remus glanced at Harry, then said to Tonks, 'What were you saying about Scrimgeour?'

'Oh yeah ... well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions.'

Harry felt vaguely grateful that he was not required to join in the conversation. His insides were squirming. Mrs Weasley placed a couple of pieces of toast and marmalade in front of him, he tried to eat, but it was like chewing carpet. Mrs Weasley sat down on his other side and started fussing with his T-shirt, tucking in the label and smoothing out the creases across his shoulders. He wished she wouldn't.

'And I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I-I'm just too tired,' Tonks finished, yawning hugely again 

'I'll cover for you, said Mr Weasley. 'I'm OK, I've got a report to finish anyway.'

Mr Weasley was not wearing wizards robes but a pair of pin striped trousers and an old bomber jacket. He turned from Tonks to Harry.

'How are you feeling?'

Harry shrugged.

'It'll all be over soon,' Mr Weasley said bracingly. 'In a few hours time you'll be cleared.' Harry said nothing.

'The hearing's on my floor, in Pius Thicknesse's office. He's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the one who'll be questioning you.'

'Pius Thicknesse is OK, Harry,' said Tonks earnestly. 'He's fair, he'll hear you out.'

Harry nodded, still unable to think of anything to say.

'Besides,' said Sirius with a smile, 'I'll be with you the whole time. As long as we stick to the truth there won't be any problems whatsoever.'

Mrs Weasley harrumphed where she stood at the sink. Clearly she was still mad at Sirius. Harry on the other hand was glad to be facing the day with his godfather.

'The law's on your side,' said Remus quietly. 'Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations.' 

Something very cold trickled down the back of Harry's neck, for a moment he thought someone was putting a Disillusionment Charm on him, then he realised that Mrs Weasley was attacking his hair with a wet comb. She pressed hard on the top of his head.

'Doesn't it ever lie flat?' she said desperately. Harry shook his head.

Mr Weasley checked his watch and looked up at Harry and Sirius.

'I think we'll go now,' he said. 'We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here.' 

'OK,' said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet.

"You'll be all right,' said Tonks, patting him on the arm.

'Good luck,' said Remus. 'I'm sure it will be fine.' 

Remus then did something Harry didn't expect and kissed Sirius on the cheek. Harry couldn't dwell on it though as at that very moment Tonks dropped her teacup on the stone floor of the kitchen.

'Oh goodness!' she cried. 'Sorry Molly.'

'It's fine Tonks, don't worry,' said Mrs Weasley.'

'Oh, Aunt Narcissa's going to kill me!'

'Not if she doesn't know,' said Mrs Weasley silently fixing the teacup with her wand. Then she moved across to Harry and hugged him. 'We've all got our fingers crossed,' she said. 

'Right,' said Harry. 'Well, we'll see you later then.'

He followed Mr Weasley and Sirius through the dining room and across the hall. 

Mr Weasley unbolted the door and they stepped out into the cold, grey dawn.

'You don't normally walk to work, do you?' Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square.

'No, I usually Apparate,' said Mr Weasley, 'but obviously you can't, and I think it's best we arrive in a thoroughly non-magical fashion ... makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for ...'

Mr Weasley kept his hand inside his jacket as they walked Harry knew it was clenched around his wand. The streets were full of morning commuters. As ever when he found himself in close proximity to Muggles going about their daily business, Mr Weasley was hard put to contain his enthusiasm.

'Simply fabulous,' he whispered, as they reached the automatic ticket machines at the underground station. 'Wonderfully ingenious.'

Harry helped Me Weasley buy their tickets (Mr Weasley was not very good with Muggle money) and five minutes later they were boarding an underground train that rattled them off towards the centre of London. Mr Weasley kept anxiously checking and re-checking the Underground Map above the windows.

'Four more stops, Harry ... Three stops left now ... Two stops to go, Harry ...'

They got off at a station in the very heart of London, and were swept from the train in a tide of besuited men and women carrying briefcases. Up the escalator they went through the ticket barrier (Mr Weasley delighted with the way the stile swallowed his ticket; Sirius was delighted with the joy Mr Weasley found in the simplest of Muggle things), and emerged on to a broad street lined with imposing looking buildings and already full of traffic. 

'Where are we?' said Mr Weasley blankly, and for one heart stopping moment Harry thought they had got off at the wrong station despite Mr Weasley's continual references to the map; but a second later he said, 'Ah yes .. this way, both,' and led them down a side road.

'Sorry,' he said, 'but I never come by train and it all looks rather different from a Muggle perspective. As a matter of fact, I've never even used the visitors' entrance before.'

The further they walked, the smaller and less imposing the buildings became, until finally they reached a street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub and an overflowing skip. Harry had expected a rather more impressive location for the Ministry of Magic.

'Here we are,' said Mr Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall. 'After you, Harry.'

He opened the telephone-box door.

Harry stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. 

'Sirius, you're all right to follow, aren't you?' Mr Weasley said. 'Only room for two, I'm afraid.'

'Of course,' said Sirius.

'Jolly good, jolly good,' said Mr Weasley. 'You remember the code?'

'It's not the most difficult to remember,' Sirius smiled.

'Yes, I suppose you're right there,' said Mr Weasley as he folded himself in beside Harry and closed the door. It was a tight fit, Harry was jammed against the telephone apparatus which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off. Mr Weasley reached past Harry for the receiver.

'Mr Weasley, I think this might be out of order,' Harry said.

'No, no, I'm sure it's fine,' said Mr Weasley, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial. 'Let's see .. six,' he dialled the number, 'two ... four ... and another four ... and another two.' 

As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them.

'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.'

'Er,' said Mr Weasley, clearly uncertain whether or not he should talk into the receiver. He compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear. 'Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing.'

'Thank you,' said the cool female voice. 'Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.'

There was a click and a rattle, and Harry saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up. it was a square silver badge with _Harry Potter Disciplinary Hearing_ on it. He pinned it to the front of his T-shirt as the female voice spoke again>

'Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.'

The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement seemed to rise up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads, and he could see Sirius no more. In fact, he could see nothing at all; he could hear only a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Harry, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it N him in the face and he had to blink to stop his eyes watering.

'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,' said the woman's voice. The door of the telephone box sprang open and Mr Weasley stepped out of it, followed by Harry, whose mouth had fallen open.

They were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard. The walls on each side were panelled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh. On the right-hand side, short queues were forming before each fire place, waiting to depart.

Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of their wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat and each of the house-elfs ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of the Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

'Well, that was fun,' said Sirius as he exited a second telephone box beside Harry and Mr Weasley.

'This way,' said Mr Weasley.

They joined the throng, winding their way between the Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment; others battered briefcases; still others were reading the Daily Prophet while they walked. As they passed the fountain Harry saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:

_ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF MAGICAL BRETHREN WILL BE GIVEN TO ST MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES_

If I'm not expelled from Hogwarts, I'll put in ten Galleons, Harry found himself thinking desperately.

'Over here, Harry,' said Mr Weasley, and they stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees heading for the golden gates. Seated at a desk to the left, beneath a sign saying 'Security', a badly-shaven wizard in peacock blue robes looked up as they approached and put down his Daily Prophet. 

'I'm escorting a couple of visitors,' said Mr Weasley, gesturing towards Harry and Sirius.

'Step over here,' said the wizard in a bored voice, 'one at a time, please.' Harry walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Harry's front and back.

'Wand,' grunted the security wizard at Harry, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand.

Harry produced his wand. The wizard dropped it on to a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing on it.

'Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?'

'Yes,' said Harry nervously.

'I keep this,' said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. 'You get this back,' he added, thrusting the wand at Harry.

'Thank you.'

'Hang on,' said the wizard slowly.

His eyes had darted from the silver visitor's badge on Harry's chest to his forehead.

'My turn, now then?' said Sirius moving Harry gently out of the way. The wizard subjected Sirius to the same procedure.

'Thank you, Eric,' said Mr Weasley, once the wizard had given Sirius his wand back.

'Yes, thank you, Eric,' smiled Sirius.

Mr Weasley led them away from the desk and back into the stream of wizards and witches walking through the golden gates.

Jostled slightly by the crowd, Harry and Sirius followed Mr Weasley through the gates into the smaller hall beyond, where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles. Harry, Sirius and Mr Weasley joined the crowd around one of them. Nearby, stood a big bearded wizard holding a large cardboard box which was emitting rasping noises. 

'All right, Arthur?' said the wizard, nodding at Mr Weasley.

'What've you got there, Bob?' asked Mr Weasley, looking at the box.

'We're not sure,' said the wizard seriously. 'We thought it was a bog-standard chicken until it started breathing fire. Looks like a serious breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding to me.'

With a great jangling and clattering a lift descended in front of them the golden grille slid back and Harry, Sirius and Mr Weasley stepped into the lift with the rest of the crowd and Harry found himself jammed against the back wall. Several witches and wizards were looking at him curiously; he stared at his feet to avoid catching anyone's eye, flattening his fringe as he did so. The grilles slid shut with a crash and the lift ascended slowly chains rattling, while the same cool female voice Harry had heard in the telephone box rang out again. 

'Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office.'

The lift doors opened. Harry glimpsed an untidy looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls. One of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomsticks, extricated himself with difficulty and disappeared down the corridor. The doors closed, the lift juddered upwards again and the woman's voice announced:

'Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre.'

Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift. Harry stared up at them as they tapped idly around above his head, they were a pale violet colour and he could see Ministry of Magic stamped along the edge of their wings.

'Just inter-departmental memos,' Mr Weasley muttered to him. 'We used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable - droppings all over the desks.'

Sirius snickered at the image. 

As they clattered upwards again the memos flapped around the lamp swaying from the lifts ceiling. 

'Level Five, Department of International Magical Co-operation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats.'

When the doors opened, two of the memos zoomed out with a few more of the witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp flickered and flashed overhead as they darted around it. 

'Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau.'

'S'cuse,' said the wizard carrying the fire breathing chicken and he left the lift pursued by a little flock of memos. The doors clanged shut yet again.

'Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Head quarters and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.'

Everybody left the lift on this floor except Mr Weasley, Harry and a witch who was reading an extremely long piece of parchment that was trailing on the floor. The remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift juddered upwards again, then the doors opened and the voice made its announcement

'Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services.'

'This is us,' said Mr Weasley, and they followed the witch out of the lift into a corridor lined with doors. 'My office is on the other side of the floor.'

'Mr Weasley,' said Harry, as they passed a window through which sunlight was streaming, 'aren't we still underground?'

'Yes, we are,' said Mr Weasley. 'Those are enchanted windows. Magical Maintenance decide what weather we'll get every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay rise. Just round here, you two.'

They turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors and emerged in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which was buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and but of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read: Auror Headquarters.

Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything from pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bills was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little further along, a witch with a patch over one eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt.

They didn't stop to say hello, instead Mr Weasley led Harry and Sirius through a second set of oak doors, into another passage, turned left, marched along another corridor, turned right into a dimly lit and distinctly shabby corridor, and finally reached a dead end, where a door on the left stood ajar, revealing a broom cupboard, and a door on the right bore a tarnished brass plaque reading 'Misuse of Muggle Artefacts'.

Mr Weasley's dingy office seemed to be slightly smaller than the broom cupboard. Two desks had been crammed inside it and there was barely space to move around them because of all the over flowing filing cabinets lining the walls, on top of which were tottering piles of files. The little wall space available bore witness to Mr Weasley's obsessions, several posters of cars, including one of a dismantled engine, two illustrations of postboxes he seemed to have cut out of Muggle children's books; and a diagram showing how to wire a plug.

Sitting on top of Mr Weasley's overflowing in-tray was an old toaster that was hiccoughing in a disconsolate way and a pair of empty leather gloves that were twiddling their thumbs. A photograph of the Weasley family stood beside the in-tray. 

'We haven't got a window,' said Mr Weasley apologetically, taking off his bomber jacket and placing it on the back of his chair. 'We've asked, but they don't seem to think we need one. Doesn't look as if Perkins is in yet, one of you can take his seat.'

At Sirius's insistence, Harry squeezed himself into the chair behind Perkins's desk while Mr Weasley shuffled through the files on his own desk.

A memo had just zoomed in through the open door and fluttered to rest on top of the hiccoughing toaster Mr Weasley unfolded it and read it aloud.

'Third regurgitating public toilet reported in Bethnal Green, kindly investigate immediately. This is getting ridiculous.'

'A regurgitating toilet?' asked Harry.

'Anti-Muggle pranksters,' said Mr Weasley, frowning. 'We had two last week, one in Wimbledon, one in Elephant and Castle. Muggles are pulling the flush and instead of everything disappearing - well, you can imagine. The poor things keep calling in those - pumbles, I think they're called - you know, the ones who mend pipes and things.'

'Plumbers?'

'Exactly, yes, but of course they're flummoxed. I only hope we can catch whoever's doing it.' 

'Will it be Aurors who catch them?'

'Oh no, this is too trivial for Aurors, it'll be the ordinary Magical Law Enforcement Patrol who find them.'

'Arthur,' said Sirius casually, 'is that lovely witch still here - the one that makes those delicious coffees?'

'Gwendolyn? Yes, she'll be around, definitely. Feel free to go get a drink, by all means. I'm going to get started on this report I've got to write. Just don't go wandering, please.'

'Of course not,' Sirius said, as if he were shocked that anyone thought he might. 'Harry, are you coming?'

Harry would much rather go for a walk with Sirius than sit with Mr Weasley as he wrote a report so he gladly jumped out of Perkins's chair.

'One sugar and cream, Arthur?' Sirius asked as they left the office.

'If you don't mind, thank you very much,' Arthur replied.

Harry followed Sirius back up the corridors and through the oak doors back into the Auror headquarters. Through the maze of cubicles Sirius led Harry to a plump witch with curly, powder blue hair at a hatch, surrounded by snacks. Behind her a kettle was whistling, but unlike an ordinary kettle, this one seemed to be whistling some kind of tune - though one Harry didn't recognise.

Harry and Sirius got in line behind a tall, thin witch with her hair in a tight bun and a long, sharp nose, on which she wore a pair of pince-nez. She wore tight pinstripe robes. Harry thought she looked rather like a Heron. As she left the window, Harry and Sirius took her place.

''Ello, loves,' said the plump witch, 'what can get for yeh?'

'Gwendolyn, so lovely to see you again,' said Sirius, charmingly, flashing his teeth. 'If I could get two coffees please, one black, one with one sugar and cream please ... and Harry, did you want a tea? Hot chocolate? Pumpkin juice?'

'Pumpkin juice will be fine thanks,' said Harry. The witch made the drinks and brought them to the hatch.

'Will that be all then, gents?' she asked.

'Oh, I think we'll grab a couple of chocolate frogs too,' said Sirius, before turning to Harry conspiratorially. 'We must keep our energy up!' he said, tapping his nose.

Sirius paid for the drinks and the chocolate frogs and they left Gwendolyn to look after the next in line, an elderly wizard, who's heavily scarred face would give Mad-Eye Moody a run for his money.

As they were making their way back to Mr Weasley's office they passed Lucius Malfoy.

'And what are you two doing here?' he asked with a slow drawl. He was looking slightly less put together than on previous occasions Harry had met him, with a little unkempt stubble, and weary looking eyes.

'We're visitors!' Sirius said brightly, wiggling his silver badge with his free hand. 'Do you work here now, Malfoy?'

'Work here, no, I -'

'Well, in that case where's your badge? I must say, with everything going on in the world, I think it's pertinent to know where everyone stands, don't you?'

'I don't need to explain myself to the likes of you,' Lucius Malfoy spat.

'No, maybe not me,' said Sirius airily, 'but I'm sure Mr Scrimgeour would have something to say about it. Hello, Rufus.'

Mr Malfoy jumped as the wizard that Sirius had called over made his way towards them.

Harry thought the wizard looked rather like an old lion. There were streaks of grey in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows, he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp. There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness, no wonder he was head of the Auror department.

'Ah, Mr Black, how can I help you?' the wizard asked. 'I am rather busy, so if you wouldn't mind making it quick.'

'I am ever so sorry to deter you from your very necessary work, Mr Scrimgeour, however Mr Malfoy here was wondering where he could get one of these lovely silver badges,' said Sirius. Mr Malfoy's mouth had become a thin line of anger. 'Apparently they weren't handing them out when he arrived. But of course we wouldn't want anyone to think that such an upstanding citizen, who has twice been accused of being a Death Eater, might be sneaking around the Ministry of Magic, now would we?'

Scrimgeour eyed Sirius shrewdly, then looked over Mr Malfoy.

'You should report to Eric in the main Atrium, if you please, Mr Malfoy,' Scrimgeour said. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I have plenty of work to be getting on with, thank you.'

The head Auror left the three of them alone once more. Sirius took a tentative sip of his coffee.

'Perfect,' he said. 'Once you've sorted the admin out, Lucius, you really should try the coffee here.'

'Listen, Black,' Mr Malfoy said under his breath, and leaning in so only Sirius and Harry could hear, 'I know your brother was behind Narcissa leaving and taking Draco away. So you tell him that he'd better hope I don't see him again.'

'I'll be sure to pass on the message,' said Sirius cheerily. 'Come on Harry, let's allow Mr Malfoy to go and get his special badge like everyone has to.'

With that he led Harry back to Mr Weasley's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that tomorrow there's a special short story coming. It will be a separate fic, but the first in the 'Professor Black Extras' series that I'll be creating, which will be supplementary to the main body. So if you like this, I think you'll enjoy what I add over there.


	74. The Hearing

At a quarter to nine Mr Weasley took Harry and Sirius to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

'Hello, Alfie,' Mr Weasley said to an elderly wizard, sat at a desk outside an door with a plaque that read 'Pius Thicknesse' on it. 

The wizard was so wrinkled Harry was reminded of a prune. His head was completely bald, but covered in liver spots. He wore round spectacles that had glad that was about an inch thick and magnified his eyes to owl like proportions. He wore a cloak of deep plum, with golden stars. He was reading a parchment that he held a hair's width from his long, crooked nose, his spiny fingers threatening to snap.

'HELLO, ALFIE!' Mr Weasley shouted, this time catching the old wizard's attention. Alfie jumped in his seat and dropped the parchment he had been reading. He leant forward and peered, squinting through his spectacles at Mr Weasley.

'Arthur!' he wheezed, his mouth breaking into a toothless grin. 'How are you?'

'I'M VERY WELL THANK YOU, ALFIE,' Mr Weasley replied. 'I'VE BROUGHT MR POTTER AND MR BLACK ALONG. THEY HAVE A HEARING WITH PIUS AT NINE O'CLOCK!'

'Yes ... yes ... indeed ...' Alfie muttered as he shuffled some files around on his overflowing desk. Harry noticed that he came periously close to knocking over a candle with a bright red flame off the edge of his desk a number of times. 'Potter and Black ... Potter and Black ... ah, yes, here we are, Siwius Black and Hawy Potter. Nine o'clock, just as you say Arthur. Please, take a seat and I'll let you know when Mr Thicknesse is weddy for you.'

There was a row of chairs on the opposite wall which they went over to and each took a seat. They were some distance from the main hubbub of the second floor, and no one else was in the waiting room; the only sounds Harry could hear were the scribbling of Alfie's quill and the ticking of the clock which seemed to Harry to be counting down to their judgement.

'Alfie's part of the furniture here,' Mr Weasley said in an attempt at casual conversation. 'Has been ever since I started working here myself! He's been the secretary to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement since eighteen forty seven, but let me tell you, there's not much that gets past him! People were amazed when he hadn't retired by the nineteen twenties, but I don't think he'd know what to do with himself outside of the Ministry to be honest with you ...'

Harry and Sirius nodded, and interjected with 'right's and 'oh really?'s as Mr Weasley continued talking but as the Hearing loomed ever closer neither were particularly interested in idle chit chat.

'Messrs Black and Potter!' Aflie suddenly shouted from his desk. 'Mr Thicknesse will see you now!'

'Well, good luck,' Mr Weasley said as they stood up. 'I'll wait out here for you.'

As Harry passed Alfie's desk, he noticed that candle now offered a rich green flame.

Sirius knocked twice before turning the handle to the office door. Harry took a breath and followed his godfather into the office.

There were three people already in the office. The man sat behead a large oak desk, whom Harry assumed was Pius Thicknesse, had long, black hair streaked with silver and a matching beard. His great overhanging forehead shadowed his glinting eyes, putting Harry in mind of a crab looking out from beneath a rock. 

To his left was the thin heron-like witch who Harry and Sirius had stood behind in line for coffee earlier that morning, and to his right was a witch that Harry thought looked just like a large pale toad. She was rather squat with a broad, flabby face, as little neck as Uncle Vernon and a very wide, slack mouth. Her eyes were large, round and slightly bulging. Even the little black velvet bow perched on top of her short curly hair put him in mind of a large fly she was about to catch on a long sticky tongue.

'Mr Black, Mr Potter, welcome,' said Thicknesse sternly. 'Please, take a seat.' Harry and Sirius sat in two of the three chairs set out in front of Thicknesse's desk. Thicknesse looked at the witch on his left who produced a large red quill and nodded.

'Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,' said Thicknesse. The thin witch began taking notes at once. 'Into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, and the International Statute of Secrecy by Sirius Orion Black, resident at number twelve, Grimauld Place, Islington, London, and Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.  
'Interrogator, Pius Manfred Thicknesse, Witness of judgement, Dolores Jane Umbridge, Scribe, Marianna Gloriana Georgina Henrietta Smith. Character witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who, it should be noted, is late.'

At that the office door opened and in strode Dumbledore himself. He was wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression as he took the third seat in front of Thicknesse's desk.

'My humble apologies, Pius,' said Dumbledore. 'I should not have stopped for a hot chocolate beforehand, however could not resist and, unfortunately, I always find myself charmed by dear Gwendolyn and I quite lost track of the time.'

Pius smiled. It was neither a warm smile, nor a cold smile, just a polite smile of someone who wanted to do their job.

'Not to worry, Dumbledore,' he said politely. 'Let us begin, shall we? The charges are as follows:  
That Mr Black, who is three days from the end of his probation following his being cleared of previous charges that saw him interred in Azkaban, and Mr Potter, who it is to be noted has previously received a written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, each produced a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlock's Statute of Secrecy, as well as, for Mr Potter, Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875.'

Thicknesse paused as his secretary scribbled away, recording his words.

'Mr Black, do you admit to casting a Patronus Charm in front of a Muggle on the second of August?' Thicknesse asked.

'I do admit this,' said Sirius warily.

'Mr Potter,' said Thicknesse, 'do you admit to casting a Patronus Charm in front of a Muggle on the second of August?'

'Yes,' said Harry.

'Mr Black, I would ask you for you, in your own words, to explain why you and Mr Potter felt the need to perform such charms.'

'I had been staying with my godson at his Aunt and Uncle's house in Little Whinging,' Sirius said. 'Harry and I went for an evening walk and came across Harry's cousin, Dudley, on our return. As we were all returning to the same house we walked together. Soon we were descended upon by a couple of Dementors. Harry and I took one each in order to protect each other and Harry's cousin. One of the Dementors attempted to give Dudley a kiss. Luckily Harry's Patronus saw it off.'

'I see,' said Thicknesse. 'And am I to believe that you both cast corporeal Patronuses?'

'Yes, that is correct,' said Sirius. 'Mine is a wolf, Harry's is a Stag. He has been able to produce a corporeal since he was thirteen.' 

Harry was happy to let his godfather do the talking, and, despite his nerves, noticed the pride in his voice when talking about Harry's ability to cast a Patronus.

'Mr Potter, can you confirm Mr Black's story?' Thicknesse asked.

'Yes,' said Harry firmly.

'Very well,' said Thicknesse. 'Dumbledore I feel you have made a slightly wasted trip today, I think it is very clear that the provisions within the law for producing magic, both underage and in the presence of Muggles is perfectly valid under such life threatening circumstances such as these. I would ask that, for the record, you confirm that the defendants are of strong and trustworthy character.'

'Oh, absolutely,' said Dumbledore cheerfully.

'Very well then, I -'

'Ahem!'

Thicknesse stopped mid-sentence and everyone stared at the toad-like witch on his right.

'So sorry, to interrupt, Pius, but surely we must ask ourselves what Dementors would be doing in Little Whinging.'

'Madame Umbridge, whilst I appreciate your input,' said Thicknesse patiently, 'you are here in a capacity of Witness to the judgment, not as an interegator yourself. The purpose of this hearing is not to suppose why Dementors may be anywhere, though I myself would assume they were there under the orders of he who must not be named.'

'But surely, you don't believe -'

'Madame Umbridge, I would ask that you allow me to do my job. If you have a problem with the way that I have conducted this hearing, please feel free to bring it up with the Minister who, as you well know, appointed me personally to succeed her in this role having served under her for a number of years myself.'

The witch pursed her lips together and sat back in her chair, clasping her hands together in her lap. Her eyes were afire with loathing. 

'Thank you,' said Thicknesse. 'As I was saying, in my judgement, I acquit both defendants of all charges. Thank you all for attending, and Mr Potter I wish you all the best in this upcoming school-year, I believe you are due to take your O.W.Ls this year?'

'Er, yeah, that's right,' said Harry.

'Well, all the best, and hopefully if we meet again, it is in more auspicious circumstances.'

Dumbledore stood.

'Thank you very much, Pius,' he said. 'Now I must be getting along. Good-day to you all.'

And without once looking at Harry, he swept out of the office. Sirius and Harry followed suit, but Dumbledore had long gone by the time they rejoined Mr Weasley, who looked pale and apprehensive.

'Dumbledore don't say -'

'Cleared,' said Harry, 'of all charges. Both of us.'

Beaming, Mr Weasley seized Harry by the shoulders. 'Harry, that's wonderful! Well, of course, they couldn't have found you guilty, not on the evidence, but even so, I can't pretend I wasn't ... I'm going to take you straight back so you can tell the others the good news,' he said. 'I'll drop you off on the way to that toilet in Bethnal Green. Come on.'

'So, what will you have to do about the toilet?' Harry asked grinning. Everything suddenly seemed five times funnier than usual. It was starting to sink in he was cleared, he was going back to Hogwarts.

'Oh, its a simple enough anti-jinx,' said Mr Weasley as they made their way back to the elevator, 'but it's not so much having to repair the damage it's more the attitude behind the vandalism, Harry. Muggle-baiting might strike some wizards as funny, but it's an expression of some thing much deeper and nastier, and I for one don't think it's a laughing matter.'

'Quite right too, Arthur,' said Sirius stifling his own laughter.

As they entered the lift Kingsley Shacklebolt joined them.

'You're going back to Hogwarts then, Harry?' Kingsley said as the doors closed and the four of them descended.

'Yeah, I am, thanks,' Harry said.

'Glad to hear it,' said Kingsley. 'Thicknesse is a good man, I've always said so. To be honest I think he agrees that the hearing was a farce, but when Muggles are involved we have to be proper.'

'Where are you off to, Kingsley?' asked Mr Weasley.

'Scrimgeour's sending me to the big boss herself,' Kingsley answered. 'Apparently it's of the utmost importance. Dumbledore's there too, according to Scrimgeour, but I can't imagine it's anything to do with the Order - ah, better keep quiet now, eh,' he said as they slowed to a halt on the fifth floor and the doors opened allowing two witches into the lift.

They stayed in silence until they reached the the now almost deserted Atrium. Harry was about to say goodbye to Kingsley out of politeness, but Sirius flicked his ear, stopping him.

In the Atrium Eric the watchwizard was hidden behind his Daily Prophet again. They had walked straight past the golden fountain before Harry remembered.

'Wait,' he told Sirius and Mr Weasley, and, pulling his moneybag from his pocket, he turned back to the fountain. He looked up into the handsome wizard's face, but close to, Harry thought he looked rather weak and foolish. The witch was wearing a vapid smile like a beauty contestant, and from what Harry knew of goblins and centaurs, they were most unlikely to be caught staring so soppily at humans of any description Only the house-elf's, attitude of creeping servility looked convincing. With a grin at the thought of what Hermione would say if she could see the statue of the elf, Harry turned his moneybag upside down and emptied not just ten Galleons, but the whole contents into the pool.


	75. The Photograph

'I knew it!' yelled Ron, punching the air. 'You always get away with stuff'

'They were bound to clear you,' said Hermione, who had looked positively faint with anxiety when Harry and Sirius had entered the drawing room and was now holding a shaking hand over her eyes, 'there was no case against you, none at all.'

Neville had looked awfully pale when they returned, and had actually had fainted in relief. Draco had also looked incredibly pale, though that was no different to normal.

'Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering you all knew we'd get off,' said Harry smiling.

Mrs Weasley was wiping her face with a large handkerchief Winky had fetched her, and Fred, George and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went: 'He got off, he got off, he got off ...'

'That's enough! Settle down!' shouted Mr Weasley, though he too was smiling.

'He got off, he got off, he got off! ...'

'Be quiet you three! Well, I'd better get going, there's a vomiting toilet waiting for me in Bethnal Green Molly, I'll be late, I'm covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner -'

'He got off, he got off, he got off ...'

'That's enough - Fred - George - Ginny!' said Mrs Weasley, as Mr Weasley left the drawing room. 'Harry, dear, come and sit down have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast.'

Harry followed Mrs Weasley to the dining room where a platter of sandwiches had been pain out. He sat down with Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Draco, and Harry's feeling of giddy relief swelled again.

Sirius and Remus joined them at the table.

'Saw your dad earlier, Draco, didn't we Harry?' Sirius said, helping himself to a large mound of mash potato.

'Er - yeah,' said Harry, almost choking on his peas.

'Now what do you think he might be doing sneaking around the Auror office like that?' Sirius asked in an offhand manner.

'How should I know what my father's intentions are?' said Draco cooly. 'If you remember, I've not seen him since last summer.'

'No, I suppose not ...'

Remus was watching Sirius with a curious expression.

'Where did you see him?' he asked.

'Near the Auror's offices,' said Sirius. 'Heaven knows who he was there to visit ...'

At that moment Narcissa walked in and sat with them at the table. As she did so, the scar on Harry's forehead burned so badly he clapped his hand to it.

'What's up?' said Hermione, looking alarmed.

'Scar,' Harry mumbled. 'But it's nothing ... it happens all the time now ...'

None of the others had noticed a thing; all of them were now helping themselves to food while, Ron and Neville had joined Ginny, Fred and George in their chant.

'Cousin, dearest,' Sirius said through a mouthful of chicken, 'you don't have an inkling why your dear ex-husband might be snooping around the Ministry of Magic now, do you?'

'Sirius, do you really think that my ex-husband sends me regular letters telling me his every move and the reasons behind them?' Narcissa said calmly, placing a quenelle of mash potato onto her own plate. 

'No, I suppose not,' Sirius said, 'but, perhaps you could hazard a guess. Might he be visiting someone? Or perhaps he's trying to spy for Voldemort.'

Narcissa froze as she returned the serving spoon to the tureene that held the peas. She then hit Sirius with a steely cold gaze.

'It is not my job to speculate about what my ex-husband does or who he may interact with,' she said firmly. 'Nor, I might add is it yours.'

With this, Narcissa put an end to their conversation and tucked in to her roast chicken.

'I bet Dumbledore turns up this evening, to celebrate with us, you know,' said Ron, happily, taking a break from the chant for a moment.

'I don't think he'll be able to, Ron,' said Mrs Weasley, 'He's really very busy at the moment.'

'HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF ...'

'SHUT UP!' roared Mrs Weasley.

*

Harry found himself daydreaming about Hogwarts more and more as the end of the holidays approached; he could not wait to see Hagrid again, to play Quidditch, even to stroll across the vegetable patches to the Herbology greenhouses.

The fact was that living in the Headquarters of the anti-Voldemort movement was not nearly as interesting or exciting as Harry would have expected before he'd experienced it. Though members of the Order of the Phoenix came and went regularly, sometimes staying for meals, sometimes only for a few minutes of whispered conversation, Mrs Weasley made sure that Harry and the others were kept well out of earshot (whether Extendable or normal) and nobody, not even Sirius, seemed to feel that Harry needed to know anything more than he had heard on the night of his arrival. 

On the very last day of the holidays Harry was sweeping up Hedwigs owl droppings from the top of the wardrobe when Ron entered their bedroom carrying a couple of envelopes.

'Book Lists have arrived,' he said, throwing one of the envelopes up to Harry, who was standing on a chair. 'About time, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come much earlier than this.'

Harry swept the last of the droppings into a rubbish bag and threw the bag over Ron's head into the wastepaper basket in the corner, which swallowed it and belched loudly. He then opened his letter. It contained two pieces of parchment: one the usual reminder that term started on the first of September; the other telling him which books he would need for the coming year. 

'Only one new book,' he said, reading the list, 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk.'

Crack.

Fred and George Apparated right beside Harry. He was so used to them doing this by now that he didn't even fall off his chair.

'We were just wondering who might use the same books as Moody,' said Fred conversationally.

'Because it means Dumbledore's found a solid Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, for the third year running,' said George.

'And about time too,' said Fred.

'What d'you mean?' Harry asked, jumping down beside them. 

'Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on the Extendable Ears a few weeks back,' Fred told Harry, 'and from what they were saying, Dumbledore was having real trouble finding anyone to do the job this year.'

'Not surprising, is it, when you look at whats happened to the one's me and Fred've had?' George said.

'Well, Moody was only doing a year anyway, and Remus left to help Sirius readjust ...' said Harry.

'Yeah,' said Fred, 'but Lockhart lost his memory, thanks to you two, Quirrell died -'

'Thanks to being possessed by Voldemort,' Harry interrupted, causing the Weasleys to shudder.

'Fauntlebaum simply vanished one day,' Fred continued, 'to this day no one knows where she is.'

'And poor old Professor Hunter got trampled by an Erumpent on safari in Africa!' George finished. 'And from what Charlie says, it was the same for him when he was at Hogwarts. The job's cursed, I'm telling you.'

'Yeah, I see what you mean,' said Harry.

'I bet Dumbledore's been able to pull in a favour from someone,' said Ron. 'He must know loads of people who're good at Defense Against the Dark Arts ... Maybe Moody's agreed to do another year, or Lupin's coming back.'

'Nah, they've got too much to do for the Order,' said Fred.'

'What about Dumbledore himself then?' said Ron.

'You're kidding?' said George. 'As if he's not got enough to do, you really think he's got time to teach us lot? Besides he taught Transfiguration, not Defense Against the Dark Arts.'

Before they could speculate any further, the door banged open Hermione came tearing into the room her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was an envelope in her hand

'Did you - did you get?' she panted.

'Get what?' Harry and Ron asked in unison.

'The Perfect badge, of course!'

'Well, Harry's a cert, right?' said Fred.

'Yeah, Dumbledore's bound to pick you!' said George.

'Winning the Triwizard and everything!' said Fred.

'Oh, check your envelope, Harry!' Hermione screamed excitedly.

Harry looked inside again but nothing was there.

'Maybe it fell out,' said Hermione, before dropping to the floor and searching through Harry's strewn clothes. 'You know, you really must be more tidy Harry, especially if you're a Prefect now.'

'Hey, I could've been Prefect, you know!' said Ron indignantly.

'Yeah, right!' said Fred.

'Want to take after Perfect Percy do you, Ron?' said George.

'No,' said Ron, hurriedly. 'I'm just saying, I could've been.'

'Hey guys,' came a voice from the doorway. 'Look what I've got!'

It was Neville, and in his hand was a badge of scarlet and gold.

'Neville?' said Fred. 'You're the prefect?'

'I suppose all that mad stuff must've counted against Harry,' said George to Fred. 

'Yeah,' said Fred slowly. 'Yeah, you've caused too much trouble, mate.' 

'Wow!' said Hermione, bringing her hand from underneath the bed. 'Well done, Neville! That's really ...' 

'Unexpected,' said George, nodding

'No,' said Hermione, blushing harder than ever, 'no it's not ... Neville's done loads ... he's top of the class in Potions and Herbology ... he's ...'

At that moment Ginny and Mrs Weasley walked into the room carrying a pile of freshly laundered robes.

'Ginny said the booklists had come at last,' she said, glancing around at all the envelopes as she made her way over to the bed and started sorting the robes a pile. If you give them to me I'll take them over to Diagon Alley this afternoon and get your books while you're packing. Ron, I'll have to get you more pyjamas yours are at least six inches too short. I can't believe how fast you're growing what colour would you like?'

'Er... anything but maroon will be fine, said Ron, blushing.

'Yeah, don't get him anything too special though,' said Fred.

'He's not a Prefect, after all,' said George.

'Not a -? Oh, a Prefect,' said Mrs Weasley. 'They've been announced have they? Who got them? Harry I suppose you did.'

'Er, no, Mrs Weasley,' said Harry, 'Neville and Hermione did ...'

'Oh, really,' said Mrs Weasley, with slight surprise in her voice. 'Well done you two, Neville, have you told your Gran yet? She'll be over the moon!'

'Hold on,' said Ron, 'why did you think Harry got prefect and not your own son?'

'Oh, well,' said Mrs Weasley, slightly embarrassed, 'he's Harry, isn't he. I suppose I thought he might be favoured. Besides you were always more like the twins than your other three brothers -'

'What's that supposed to mean?' said Ron, Fred and George in unison.

'Well,' said Mrs Weasley, folding Harry's robes quicker now, 'you three have a way of attracting trouble, is what I would say ...'

'What about me, Mum?' said Ginny, grinning, and throwing Harry a wink. 'Who am I most like?'

'I'm not having this conversation any more,' said Mrs Weasley, bustling out of the room. 'You should all be very happy for Neville and Hermione and that's the end of it. Now, I'm going to ask the elves to put together a little celebration for us tonight, and Neville, you really should let your Gran know, I'm sure she'll want to get you something special.'

Mrs Weasley and Neville left the room.

'Cheer up, Ron,' said Fred, 'no one likes to see you moping around.' 

'Yeah,' said George, 'you're one of the cool brothers.'

With that the twins disapparated.

'Er, Ron, do you mind if I borrow Merlin so I can tell Mum and Dad?' said Hermione. 'They'll be really pleased - I mean prefect is something they can understand.'

'Yeah, of course,' said Ron.

'Congratulaions, Hermione,' Harry called as she followed Ron out of his room.

'Thanks,' she said, flashing him with a beaming grin showing off her braces.

Harry and Ginny were left alone. Harry leaned over his trunk, laid the robes on the bottom of it and pretended to be rummaging for something.

A few moments passed, before Ginny wrapped her arms around him. Harry shrugged her off.

'Hey!' she said. 'What's that about?'

Harry remained bent double over his trunk, not saying a word.

'Have I done something to upset you?' asked Ginny tentatively. 'Or did you think that you were going to be Prefect like everyone else did?'

He straightened up and sighed. How did Ginny know him so we'll?

In all honesty he had forgotten completely about prefects being chosen in the fifth year. He had been too anxious about the possibility of being expelled to spare a thought for the fact that badges must be winging their way towards certain people. But if he had remembered ... if he had thought about it ... what would he have expected? 

Not this, said a small and truthful voice inside his head.

Harry screwed up his face and buried it in his hands. He could not lie to himself, if he had known the prefect badge was on its way, he would have expected it to come to him, not Neville. Did this make him arrogant? Did he think himself superior to everyone else? Did he really believe he was better than Neville? 

No, said the small voice defiantly.

Was that true? Harry wondered, anxiously probing his own feelings.

'Hey, hey,' said Ginny, taking his hands gently from his face, and kissing them. 'Why are you getting like this? I love that you're not a Prefect.'

Harry pulled his hands away and sat on his bed.

'Seriously,' Ginny said. 'It means I've got a bad boy for a boyfriend.'

Harry chuckled, despite his mood.

'Yeah, I suppose you're right,' he said. 'I have cause my fair share of trouble, haven't I?'

'Come on,' Ginny said, holding her hand out for him. 'I think you need help packing, then we'll go join the celebrations. And cheer up! Ron can do enough sulking for both of you!'

Harry took her hand and stood up. She kissed him warmly. Instantly he felt more cheerful.

It was odd how widely Harry and Ginny's possessions seemed to have scattered themselves since they had arrived. It took them most of the afternoon to retrieve their books and belongings from all over the house and stow them back inside their school trunks.

Mrs Weasley returned from Diagon Alley around six o'clock, laden with books. Mrs Longbottom and Neville had gone with her, and Neville was very pleased to show off his brand new wand that he'd got from Ollivander's.

'Thirteen Inches, Cherry with a Unicorn hair,' he said proudly, showing the others.

In the dining room the elves had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read:

CONGRATULATIONS  
HERMIONE AND NEVILLE  
NEW PREFECTS

Narcissa was eyeing it in distaste. Mrs Weasley however, looked in a better mood than Harry had seen her all holiday. 

'I thought we'd have a little party, not a sit-down dinner,' she told Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Draco as they entered the room. 'Your father, Bill and Percy are on their way, Ron. I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled for you both,' she added, beaming at Hermione and Neville.

Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly after Harry had got himself a Butterbeer.

'Oh, Alastor, good to see you,' said Mrs Weasley brightly as Mad-Eye shrugged off his travelling cloak. 'We're having a little bit of a celebration, actually ...'

She gestured at the scarlet banner. 

'He's following in his father's footsteps,' said Mrs Longbottom proudly. 'Frank was Head Boy as well, you know!

'Perfect, eh?' growled Moody, his normal eye on Neville and his magical eye swivelling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and moved away towards Sirius and Remus.

'Well, congratulations,' said Moody, still glaring at Neville with his normal eye, 'authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you. Though I think you proved yourself well enough in my classes last year.'

Neville blanched at this view of the matter but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of Mr Weasley, Bill, Percy and Mundungus - who Mrs Weasley instantly warned not to even think about taking his pipe out. Mungdungus was wearing a long overcoat that seemed oddly lumpy in unlikely places and declined the offer to remove it and put it with Moody's travelling cloak.

'Well, I think a toast is in order,' said Mr Weasley, when everyone had a drink. He raised his goblet. 'To Neville and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!'

Neville and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them, and then applauded 

'I was never a prefect myself,' said Tonks brightly from behind Harry as everybody moved towards the table to help themselves to food. Her hair was tomato red and waist-length today; she looked ike Ginny's older sister. 'My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities.'

'Like what?' said Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato.

'Like the ability to behave myself,' said Tonks. Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did not know whether to smile or not and compromised by taking an extra large gulp of Butterbeer and choking on it.

'Who d'you think got it in the other houses?' said Neville, as Ginny thumped Hermione on the back.

'I just hope it's not Theo and Pansy,' said Draco. 'Otherwise this year is going to be even more Hellish than I anticipated.'

'I doubt even Professor Black would do that after what they did to Hermione last year,' said Ron.

'It could be Blaise,' said Hermione.

'That wouldn't be so bad,' said Draco. 'I don't think he ever cared for me, but I don't think he cares for anyone particularly.'

'It'd be nice if Hannah got it for Hufflepuff,' said Neville.

'What about you, Sirius?' Ginny asked. 'Were you Prefect when you were at school?' 

Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usual bark-like laugh.

'No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Moony was the good boy, he got the badge.' 

'I think Dumbledore might have hoped I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends,' said Remus. 'I need scarcely say that I failed dismally.'

Harry's mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been a prefect either. All at once the party seemed much more enjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling doubly fond of everyone in the room. 

Ron, Draco and Neville continued the discussion of who the best options for Prefects from the houses might be.

Hermione was talking very earnestly to Remus about her view of elf rights.

'I mean, it's the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn't it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they're superior to other creatures ...'

Mrs Weasley and Bill were having their usual argument about Bill's hair. 

'... getting really out of hand, and you're so goodlooking, it would look much better shorter, wouldn't it, Harry?'

'Oh - I dunno - said Harry, slightly alarmed at being asked his opinion; he slid away from them in the direction of Sirius, Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner with Mundungus.

Mungdungus stopped talking when he saw Harry. but Fred winked and beckoned Harry closer.

'It's OK,' he told Mundungus, 'we can trust Harry, he's our other finincial backer.'

'Look what Dung's got us,' said George, holding out his hand to Harry. It was full of what looked like shrivelled black pods. A faint rattling noise was coming from them, even though they were completely stationary.

'Venomous Tentacula seeds,' said George. 'We need them for the Skiving Snackboxes but they're a Class C Non-Tradeable Substance so we've been having a bit of trouble getting hold of them. Ten Galleons the lot, then, Dung?' said Fred.

'Wiv all the trouble I went to to get 'em?' said Mundungus, his suggy, bloodshot eyes stretching even wider. 'I'm sorry, lads, but I'm not taking a Knut under twenty.'

'But there's Venemous Tentacular in the garden ...' said Harry confused.

'Ah, well, I'd like to see you try and get 'old of 'em,' said Mungdungus. 'They'd rip ya finga's orf! These're more'n worth twenty Galleons, I'm telling you.'

'Dung likes his little joke,' Fred said to Harry

'Yeah, his best one so far has been six Sickles for a bag of Knarl quills,' said George.

'Be careful,' Harry warned them quietly,

'What?' said Fred. 'Mum's busy making sure this party run's smoothly, we're OK.'

'But Moody could have his eye on you,' Harry pointed out.

Mundungus looked nervously over his shoulder. 

'Good point that,' he grunted. 'All right, lads, ten it is, if you'll take 'em quick.'

'Cheers, Harry!' said Fred delightedly, when Mundungus had emptied his pockets into the twins outstretched hands and scuttled off towards the food. 'We'd better get these upstairs ...'

Harry watched them go.

'Nice work, Harry,' smiled Sirius. 'You'll make a canny businessman, yet. It's nearly sundown, by the way, you'd better take a toilet break.'

'Oh, yeah, right,' said Harry, and he followed the twins out of the dining room. He made his way into his bedroom, placed his wand over his heart, said his incantation - ' _Amaro, Animo, Animato, Animagus_ ,' - and made his way back to the party.

'I've got to head off,' Percy was saying to his parents, Bill and Ginny. 'I've got to get back for night duty.'

Mrs Weasley yawned widely. 'I'll walk you to the door dear, I think I'm going to turn in anyway ... Arthur, I don't want this lot up too late, all right? Night, Harry, dear.' She and Percy left the dining room. 

'You all right, Potter?' grunted Moody from beside him, making him jump.

'Yeah, fine,' said Harry. Had Moody follows his movements just now? Had he seen him casting a spell?

Moody took a swig from his hipflask, his electric-blue eye staring sideways at Harry.

'Come here, I've got something that might interest you,' he said. From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old wizarding photograph.

'Original Order of the Phoenix,' growled Moody. 'Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return my best one ... thought people might like to see it.'

Harry took the photograph A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back up at him.

'There's me,' said Moody, unnecessarily pointing at himself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, though his hair was slightly less grey and his nose was intact. 'And there's Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the other side ... that's Marlene McKinnon she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. That's Frank and Alice Longbottom -'

Harry stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as he looked at Alice Longbottom, he knew her round, friendly face very well, even though he had never met her, because she was the image of her son, Neville.

'- poor devils,' growled Moody. 'Better dead than what happened to them ... and that Emmeline Vance, you've met her, and that there's Lupin, obviously ... Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him ... shift aside there,' he added, poking the picture, and the little photographic people edged sideways, so that those who were partially obscured could move to the front.

'That's Edgar Bones, brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family, too, he was a great wizard ... Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young ... Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body ... Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever ... Elphias Doge, you've met him, I'd forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat ... Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes ... budge along, budge along ...'

The little people in the photograph jostled among themselves and those hidden right at the back appeared at the forefront of the picture. 'That's Dumbledore's brother Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke ... that's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally Sirius, when he still had short hair and there you go, thought that would interest you!'

Harry's heart turned over. His mother and father were beaming up at him, sitting on either side of a small, watery-eyed man whom Harry recognised at once as Wormtail, the one who had betrayed his parents whereabouts to Voldemort and so helped to bring about their deaths.

'Eh?' said Moody.

Harry looked up at Moody's heavily scarred and pitted face. Evidently Moody was under the impression he had just given Harry a bit of a treat.

'Yeah,' said Harry, attempting to grin. 'Er, listen, I've just remembered. I haven't packed my -'

He was spared the trouble of inventing an object he had not packed. Sirius had just said, 'What's that you've got there, Mad-Eye?' and Moody had turned towards him. Harry backed back out of the dining room, and up the stairs before anyone could call him back.

He did not know why it had been such a shock; he had seen pictures of his parents before, after all, and he had met Wormtail ... but to have them sprung on him like that, when he was least expecting it ... no one would like that, he thought angrily ... 

And then, to see them surrounded by all those other happy faces ... Benjy Fenwick, who had been found in bits, and Gideon Prewett, who had died like a hero, and the Longbottoms, who had been tortured into madness all waving happily out of the photograph forever more, not knowing that they were doomed ... well, Moody might find that interesting ... he, Harry, found it disturbing ...

Harry made his way up the stairs, glad to be on his own again, and made his way back to his bedroom, closing the door.

He got into his bed, without getting undressed, and pulled the duvet around him. The streetlight was flooding his room. About ten minutes later he heard a knock on his bedroom door, but stayed quiet. He didn't want to speak to anyone.

'Harry, I know you're in there,' came Neville's muffled voice. 'I take it Moody showed you the picture?' 

Harry heard the door open and Neville walked in. He dragged the chair over and sat in it, facing Harry.

'He showed it to me too,' he said quietly.

Harry rolled over. He wasn't in the mood to talk.

'Look, I get why you're upset,' Neville said. 'Seeing our parents after all this time ... after what happened to them. Sure my Mum and Dad are still alive, but it's not like they were ever able to be parents to me, is it? I like seeing photographs like that.'

'Why?' asked Harry, amazed at how calm Neville seemed to be.

'Well, firstly they're happy. Despite the fact that You-Know-Who was at his height of power, there was still happiness and love. And secondly, did you see how many people were in that photo? People will always fight, they always have. And I reckon we've got more in the Order this time around.'

'Yeah, well he's got people too ... Wormtail for a start.'

'Maybe, but we've already started to turn his followers. Look at Draco and his mum. Look at how many Aurors we have. Dumbledore's had time to get organised this time. You-Know-Who hasn't, has he?

'I'm not saying it's going to be easy, and we might lose people we care about, for sure ... but we're going to fight, and I bet you a thousand Galleons we beat him for good this time.'

Harry had to admit, Neville had the right way of looking at it all, and was already feeling much better. Neville stood up and crossed the bedroom again.

'Night, Harry,' he said.

'Night, Neville, thanks,' said Harry. 'Oh, and, Neville ...'

'Yeah?'

'Well done on making Prefect, mate. I think you'll be really good at it. Definitely the right choice.'

'Thanks, Harry,' Neville said, smiling as he closed the door.


	76. A Brewing Storm

Harry was the first awake, as was usual since he was preparing to become an Animagi, and had plenty of time to get his belongings together.

'I wish the others would be as organised as you, Harry,' Mrs Weasley lamented as everyone else rushed around them.

At one point Fred and George bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them with the result that they had hurtled straight into Percy and knocked him down the grand staircase into the hall; Mrs Weasley was screaming at the top of her voice.

'- COULD HAVE DONE HIM A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS -'

Draco and Narcissa left earlier than everyone else. According to Mad-Eye Moody this was so as not to arouse suspicion that they had anything to do with the Order.

'Harry, you're to go with Remus, Sirius, Augusta and Neville in the first car,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Ron, Ginny and Hermione are with me and Arthur and Percy, Bill and the twins are following behind. Members of the Order will be positioned along the route to keep an eye on things. But Madam Bones allowing us the use of these cars helps a great deal I can tell you.'

'Yes, and the drivers have been thoroughly vetted, I assure you,' so Mad-Eye, 'Right, Tonks, we'd better get going - these streets won't patrol themselves. The two Aurors left the house.

'Here, let me give you a hand there, Harry,' said Sirius, taking one side of Harry's trunk. They carried it outside where three Ministry cars were parked, like the ones that had taken Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys to King's Cross station to begin their third year of Hogwarts.

Harry and Sirius heaved Harry's trunk into the boot of the first car. Mr Weasley was struggling to fit Ginny's trunk into the boot of the second, and the twins were stuffing their trunks into the third, under Percy's watchful eye.

Back inside Mrs Weasley was hurrying Ron and Neville along.

'Come on, come on,' she was saying, 'we can't be late for the train!'

Harry and Neville loaded Neville's trunk got into the car where Sirius and Neville's Gran joined them, carrying Hedwig and Trevor respectively. Remus was already in the front next to the driver.

'All in,' Sirius said to the driver who proceeded to pull off from the curbside.

'Remember, Neville,' his gran was telling him, 'you're a prefect now, and your representing your family more than ever before. Keep your head up, concentrate in your lessons - heaven knows your wandwork needs improving - and keep your nose clean. You've got to do your father proud. He always was a wonderful student, and you're following in his footsteps as prefect.'

'No pressure, then,' Sirius murmured low, so only Harry could hear.

Looking out the window Harry was amazed as the London streets sped past. Not once did they need to stop at a traffic light; somehow they always seemed to jump to the front of any traffic queues; they dodged around black cabs, cyclists and pedestrians alike with ease. Within five minutes they were at King's Cross Station.

Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through on to platform nine and three quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. Harry inhaled the familiar smell and felt his spirits soar. He was really going back ...

Harry saw Draco on the platform, looking around nervously. Nearby were his parents, Narcissa as poised as ever, Lucius highly animated in fury.

'Should we go and say something?' Harry said in concern.

'Oh, trust me when I say I'd like to give that Lucius Malfoy a price of my mind, especially after the things I've heard Narcissa saying,' said Mrs Longbottom, 'but I fear it would do more harm than good at present. We aren't supposed to be friendly with any of the Malfoys after all ...'

Soon enough the Weasleys and Hermione had joined them on the platform, all their luggage in tow.

'Well, look after yourselves,' said Remus, shaking hands all round. He reached Harry last and gave him a clap on the shoulder. 'You too, Harry. Be careful.'

'Yeah, and be wary of what you put in your letters,' said Sirius. 'They'll be trying to find information any way possible.' Then, quietly to Harry he said, 'remember to use the mirror if it's important.'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'I will do.'

A warning whistle sounded, the students still on the platform started hurrying on to the train.

'Quick, quick,' said Mrs Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Harry twice. 'Write ... be good ... if you've forgotten anything we'll send it on ... hurry onto the train now.'

'See you!' Harry called out of the open window as the train began to move, while Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny waved beside him. The figures of Sirius, Remus Percy, Bill and Mr and Mrs Weasley shrank rapidly .

'Well,' said Fred, clapping his hands together, 'can't stand around chatting all day we've got business to discuss with Lee. See you later,' and he and George disappeared down the corridor to the right

The train was gathering still more speed, so that the houses outside the window lashed past, and they swayed where they stood.

'Shall we go and find a compartment, then?' Harry asked.

'Well, Neville and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage,' Hermione said.

'Oh,' said Harry 'Right. Fine.'

'I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey,' said Hermione. 'Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the condors from time to time.'

'Fine,' said Harry again. 'Me, Ron and Ginny'll grab a compartment - hopefully we'll bump into Draco, and we'll see you later.'

'Perfect!' Hermione smiled and she and Neville dragged their trunks, towards the engine end of the train, Crookshanks and Trevor in their arms.

'Come on then,' said Ginny. 'If we don't get a move on we'll never find a free compartment to be able to save them places.'

'Right,' said Harry picking up Hedwig's cage in one hand and the handle of his trunk in the other. They struggled off down the corridor, peering through the glass-panelled doors into the compartments they passed, which were already full. Harry could not help noticing that a lot of people stared back at him with great interest and that several of them nudged their neighbours and pointed him out. After four years of attending Hogwarts and he was still a novelty to some of his fellow students. He could almost forgive the younger ones, but there were some good own age who seemed to be transfixed by him.

It wasn't until the very last carriage that they finally found space.

'Finally!' said Ginny as she slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside. Harry and Ron followed.

'Hi, Luna,' said Ginny to the only occupant of the compartment, Luna Lovegood, 'is it OK if we take these seats?'

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist length, dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. She was part of Professor Black's elite Slug Club for students he seemed particularly gifted. Ron had been her dance partner at the Yule Ball that had been hosted the previous Christmas - not that they had done much dancing. Ron had been far more interested in moping around.

Luna gave off an aura of distinct oddness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of Butterbeer corks, or that she was reading a magazine upside-down.

Her eyes ranged over Harry and came to rest on Ron. She nodded.

'Thanks,' said Ginny, smiling at her.

Harry and Ron stowed the three trunks and Hedwig and Merlin's cages in the luggage rack and sat down. Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans.

'Had a good summer, Luna?' Ginny asked.

'Yes,' said Luna dreamily, not taking her eyes off of Ron. 'Yes, It was quite enjoyable. Hello again, Ronald.'

Ron blushed deep red and Ginny caught Harry's eye with a mischievous glint in her own.

'Err - hi Luna,' Ron mumbled.

'Been to any dances recently,' she asked him.

'Err, no,' Ron said nervously.

'Good,' said Luna simply, before adding, 'you weren't very good at dancing. What are you good at?'

'Erm ... I'm not sure really ...' Ron said.

'You're good at chess,' Harry said quickly. 'Remember how you beat McGonagall's set in our first year?'

'And you were the only brother who came looking for me in my first year when I got kidnapped,' said Ginny.

'And you had my back when you thought Sirius was going to kill me, even though you'd broken your leg,' said Harry.

'And you helped Harry prepare for the final task last year helping him to win the Tri-Wizard Tournament,' said Ginny.

'But that's no more than anyone else would've done in those situations,' said Ron, blushing. 'I'm not good enough to join Professor Black's club or to be a prefect. I can't fly as well as you, Harry, and I'm not as smart as you are, Ginny.'

'You would have made a good Hufflepuff,' said Luna.

'Why?' said Ron. 'Because I'm a little bit good at a lot but not very good at anything in particular?'

'No,' said Luna. 'You're humble. But I can see you're very loyal to your friends too, so that's probably why you're in Gryffindor.'

'Oh, right ...' said Ron, blushing again.

Luna raised her upside down magazine high enough to hide her face and fell silent. Harry and Ron looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. Ginny suppressed a giggle.

'I'm going to see if I can find Draco,' said Ron, leaving the compartment before Luna could say anything else.

The train rattled onwards, speeding them out into open country.

It was an odd unsettled set of day, one moment the carriage was full of sunlight and the next they were passing beneath ominously grey clouds.

Ginny moved across to the seat next to Harry and lay across his lap. He found himself playing with her long red hair absent-mindedly, as he stared out of the window.

After a while of riding in silence the carriage door reopened and Ron and Draco walked inside. Luna looked up briefly from her magazine, before returning to whatever she was reading.

'Oi, you two,' said Ron. 'This is a public train, y'know!'

Ginny giggled as she sat up and wiggled closer to Harry, kissing him on the cheek.

'Don't get jealous, now,' she said.

'I found him right at the other end of the train,' Ron said.

'I'd almost given up hope of finding you,' said Draco.

'What was going on with your dad earlier, on the platform?' Harry asked.

'Well,' Draco said, 'first of all he was trying to get mum to go back to him, but he soon went into a tirade of how dare she steal his son and heir away from him, and eventually there was talk of disowning and disinheriting me, so who knows what's going on?'

Luna had put her magazine down again.

'You're Draco Malfoy,' she stated. 'You were sent to Durmstrang last year.'

'Er, yeah that's right,' Draco said.

'Why have you come back to Hogwarts?' Luna asked. 'You spent most of last year at Hogwarts as well. Didn't really give Durmstrang a chance, did you?'

'Er, I guess not, no ...'

'The thing is, Luna,' said Ron, 'Draco's not nearly as evil as his dad wants him to be. I'd go as far as to say he's a pretty poor excuse for a Slytherin to be honest. I mean that as a compliment, mate,' he added quickly.

'Well not all Slytherins are evil though, are they?' Luna said. 'Look at Professor Black for example.'

Harry and Ron shared a glance with each other. Neither of them was wholly convinced that Professor Black wasn't up to something, though it had to be admitted that time and again he proved himself to be trustworthy.

'Well that's two,' said Harry, 'seems to be an exception to the general rule.'

'To be fair,' said Draco, 'there are non-Slytherins that are evil too ... Professor Quirrell was a Ravenclaws for a start.'

'And look at Wormtail,' said Ginny, squeezing Harry's hand.

'So what we've determined,' said Harry, 'is that pretty much any witch or wizard might join Voldemort if they feel like it ...'

The sat in a gloomy silence for a bit until the witch with the food trolley turned up. They each bought some treats which lightened the mood considerably.

By the time Hermione and Neville found them they were swapping Chocolate Frog cards.

'Well, as you know, there are two fifth year prefects from each house,' said Hermione, scooching Ron along so she could sit down as Neville took a seat on Harry and Ginny's side.

'And we got three of the other six right,' said Neville.

'Don't tell me it's Theo and Pansy,' moaned Draco.

'No, thank goodness,' said Hermione. 'Slytherin has Blaise Zabini, like we thought, and Daphne Greengrass.'

'Well neither of those are terrible,' said Draco.

'Who do Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws have?' asked Ron.

'Well, Neville got his Hufflepuff wish with Hannah,' said Hermione. 'Ernie Macmillan is their second. And Ravenclaws have Anthony Goldstein, and -'

'- in a surprise twist, considering her twin was overlooked,' Neville interjected.

'Padma Patil.'

'Well just because they're identical twins, it doesn't mean they're exactly the same in personality,' said Luna, who had put her magazine down once more to learn who her new house prefects were.

'To be fair,' said Ron, 'you didn't grow up with Fred and George who definitely do ...'

''Sarah Fawcett from Ravenclaw is Head Girl, and the Head Boy is Cedric Diggory,' continued Hermione.

''Brilliant,' said Harry. He was glad Cedric got Head Boy, it was well deserved after his performance and sportsmanship in the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year.

''I thought you'd be happy for him, too,' said Hermione. 

'So what do you have to do as Prefects?' asked Ginny.

'Why?' said Ron. 'D'you reckon you'll get to be one next year?'

'Doubt it,' said Ginny, 'I'm just interested, that's all. Mind you, you never know. If I keep my head down this year I could be the first Weasley prefect since Percy.'

Ron scoffed, but Hermione ignored him as she said, 'we're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often, and make sure people are behaving.'

'Can you give out punishments if people are misbehaving?' asked Ron.

'That's the idea,' said Neville.

'Brilliant!' said Ron gleefully. 'Go and look for Nott, Crabbe and Goyle. I bet you can catch them doing something. Maybe taking up too much space!'

'We're not supposed to abuse our position, Ron!' said Hermione sharply. 'No wonder you weren't given the responsibility!'

'Go on, Neville, make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing,' said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. 'I ... must not look like baboon's ... backside ...'

Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Crookshanks to leap up into the luggage rack, hissing. Luna laughed so hard her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs and on to the floor.

'That was funny!'

Her prominent eyes swam with tears as she gasped for breath, staring at Ron. Utterly nonplussed, he looked around at the others, who were now laughing at the expression on Ron's face and at the ludicrously prolonged laughter of Luna Lovegood, who was rocking backwards and forwards, clutching her sides.

'Are you taking the mickey?' said Ron, frowning at her.

'Baboon's backside!' she choked, holding her ribs.

They spent the journey happily in their compartment, Hermione and Neville patrolling every so often, though neither had much of interest to report, and, much to Ron's disappointment, neither had handed out any punishments to any Slytherins.

The weather remained undecided as they travelled further and further north. Rain spattered the windows in a half-hearted way, then the sun put in a feeble appearance before clouds drifted over it once more. As the sun began to set, Harry excused himself and found the onboard toilets so he could recite his Animagus incantation.

As he left he found Hermione outside.

'I hope you're not doing what I think you're doing,' she said to him.

'I washed my hands if that's what you're worried about ...' Harry said.

'Do you really think I've not noticed you disappearing at sundown every day?' Hermione said sternly. 'Do you really think it's a good idea to become an Animagi? Think of all the horrendous things that could go wrong!'

Harry saw that it would be pointless to lie to Hermione. She was, after all, the only student to have worked out that Remus was a werewolf.

'Well, Sirius managed it at my age and he's talked me through it all,' Harry said. 'And you managed to brew a polyjuice potion in our second year at Hogwarts, so I reckon I might just be ok.'

'That's beside the point,' said Hermione, blushing slightly. 'Sirius can be quite reckless at times, and regardless of his good intentions, I don't think he thinks things through fully all the time. I take it he's not told Remus?'

'He thought it best that it would be a better kept secret if only he and I knew,' said Harry. 'That way it's a better advantage against Voldemort.'

Hermione sighed. 'I suppose he has a point there,' she said. 'Well I promise I won't tell anyone, but I want you think about whether you go through with this or not. There's so many ways the transformation can go wrong. And you don't want to get stuck as whatever animal you become!'

'I know, I know ... Sirius has gone through all the dangers with me,' Harry said.

Hermione finally conceded the argument and they returned to the compartments, just as the lamps were turning on.

Harry was sat with his forehead pressed against the train window trying to get a first distant glimpse of Hogwarts, but it was a moonless night and the rain-streaked window was grimy.

'We'd better change,' said Hermione at last, and all of them opened their trunks with difficulty and pulled on their school robes. She and Neville pinned their prefect badges carefully to their chests.

At last the train began to slow down and they heard the usual racket up and down it as everybody scrambled to get their luggage and pets assembled, ready to get off.

As Hermione and Neville were supposed to supervise all this, they disappeared from the carriage again, leaving Ginny to look after Crookshanks. Neville had stuffed Trevor securely into one of his robe pockets.

They pulled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd in the corridor. Slowly, they moved towards the doors. Harry could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. He stepped down onto the platform and looked around, listening for the familiar call of 'firs'-years ... over 'ere firs'-years ...' But it did not come.

Instead, a quite different voice, a brisk female one, was calling out, 'First-years line up over here, please! All first years to me!'

A lantern came swinging towards Harry and by its light he saw the prominent chin and severe haircut of Professor Grubbly-Plank, the witch who had taken over Hagrids Care of Magical Creatures lessons for a while the previous year. 

'Where's Hagrid?' he said out loud.

'I dunno,' said Ron, sounding worried. 'He'd better be OK ...'

'Let's worry about that later,' said Ginny 'we're blocking the door.'

'Oh, yeah ...'

Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco and Luna became separated as they moved off along the platform and out through the station. Jostled by the crowd, Harry squinted through the darkness for a glimpse of Hagrid; he had to be here, Harry had been relying on it - seeing Hagrid again was one of the things he'd been looking forward to most. But there was no sign of him.

He can't have left, Harry told himself as he shuffled slowly through a narrow doorway on to the road outside with the rest of the crowd. He's just got a cold or something.

He looked around for Hermione or Neville, wanting to know what they thought about the reappearance of Professor Grubbly-Plank. but neither of them was anywhere near him, so he allowed himself to be shunted forwards on to the dark rain-washed road outside Hogsmeade Station.

Here stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle, Harry glanced quickly at them, then turned away to keep a lookout for the others.

'Found you,' said Ron's voice, right behind Harry. Next to him was Draco.

A short distance away, Theodore Nott, followed by a small gang of cronies including Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle, was making his way over to them.

''So you've returned then,' Nott spat at Draco.

''Yeah, that's right,' said Draco. 'And clearly you've forgotten what happened at the end of last year,' he added reaching for his wand.

''You wouldn't do anything here,' said Nott. 'Too many witnesses.'

''Maybe not,' said Ron, 'but neither will you. I'd watch out if I were you, Hermione and Neville are prefects this year. We'll be keeping our eyes on you, so be careful, we wouldn't want you losing Slytherin any house points would we?'

'Nott sneered, but he and his gang moved away, got a group of second years to give up their coach for them and made their way to the castle.

Moments later, Hermione emerged panting from the crowd.

'Where were you a minute ago?' lamented Ron. 'Nott was just here. You could've started Slytherin's year off in negative points!'

'I've already told you, Ron, I shan't abuse my power,' said Hermione haughtily. 'Where's Crookshanks?'

'Ginny's got him,' said Harry. 'There she is ...'

Ginny had just emerged from the crowd, clutching a squirming Crookshanks.

'Thanks,' said Hermione, relieving Ginny of the cat. 'Come on, let's get a carriage together before they all fill up.'

'Where's Neville?' Ron said.

'I think he's going up with Hannah and her friends, come on,' said Hermione, as she headed off towards the nearest unoccupied coach.

Luna appeared as they were boarding and joined them.

As she shut the door to the carriage Hermione looked up to the sky.

'I hope we get there quickly enough,' she said. She followed this with a comment Harry knew was for his benefit. 'It looks like a storm's brewing.'


	77. The Sorting Hat's New Song

'Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?' asked Ginny. 'What's she doing back here? Hagrid can't have left, can he?'

'I'll be quite glad if he has,' said Luna, 'he isn't a very good teacher, is he?'

'Yes, he is!' said Harry, Ron and Ginny angrily.

Harry glared at Hermione. She cleared her throat and quickly said, 'Erm ... yes ... he's very good.'

Well, we in Ravenclaw think he's a bit of a joke,' said Luna, unfazed. 

'You've got a rubbish sense of humour then,' Ron snapped, as the wheels below them creaked into motion.

Luna did not seem perturbed by Ron's rudeness on the contrary, she simply watched him for a while as though he were a mildly interesting television programme.

Draco, Harry noticed, kept quiet, just watching the rain fall out of the window.

Rattling and swaying, the carriages moved in convoy up the road. When they passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars on either side of the gates to the school grounds. Harry leaned forwards to try and see whether there were any lights on in Hagrid's cabin by the Forbidden Forest, but the grounds were in complete darkness. Hogwarts Castle, however, loomed ever closer: a towering mass of turrets, jet black aging the dark sky, here and there a window blazing liery bright above them.

The carriages jingled to a halt near the stone steps leading up to the oak front doors and Harry got out of the carriage first. He turned again to look for lit windows down by the Forest, but then was definitely no sign of life within Hagrid's cabin.

He turned away and joined the crowd hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.

The Entrance Hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start of-term feast.

The four long house tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows, Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes. 

Luna drifted away from them at the Ravenclaw table as Neville joined them at moment they Gryffindor's.

'Well, good luck,' Harry said to Draco.

'Thanks,' said Draco as he left and joined the Slytherin table on the other side of the hall. Harry watched as he sat right as the end of the table, as far from Nott and his other former friends as he could get.

Ginny was hailed by some fellow fourth years and left to sit with them; Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville found seats together about halfway down the table between Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor house ghost, and Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. As Harry sat he was looking over the students heads to the staff table that ran along the top wall of the Hall.

'He's not there.'

Ron and Hermione scanned the staff table too, though there was no real needs Hagrid's size made him instantly obvious in any line up. 

'He can't have left,' said Ron, sounding slightly anxious.

'Of course he hasn't,' said Harry firmly.

'You don't think he's. .. hurt, or anything, do you?' said Hermione uneasily.

'No,' said Harry at once.

'But where is he, then?'

There was a pause, then Harry said very quietly, so that Parvati and Lavender could not hear, 'Maybe he's not back yet. You know - from his mission - the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore,'

'Yeah, yeah, that'll be it,' said Ron, sounding reassured, but Hermione bit her lip, looking up and down the staff table as though hoping for some conclusive explanation of Hagrid's absence.

'Guys,' said Neville, 'I know you're worried about Hagrid, but look who our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is ...'

Harry's eyes jumped to the staff table. Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the centre of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. He was talking with someone who could only be their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Harry let his eyes dart up and down the table again. Yes. There were no other new teachers. 

Harry couldn't believe their luck.

There, sat talking to Dumbledore, in emerald green robes was none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt himself.

'Amazing!' said Ron. 'That's three great teachers in a row - not to mention two Aurors!'

Hermione didn't seem as convinced that this was such great news though.

'Why is he here?' she asked with concern. 'Surely he has better things to be doing with You-Know-Who back. Especially when half the Auror office is keeping an eye on things at Azkaban ...'

'Well, let's ask him when we have his first lesson,' said Ron.

'No,' said Hermione sharply. 'We're not supposed to know who he is, remember.'

'Oh, yeah,' said Ron.

Professor Grubbly-Plank had just appeared behind the staff table; she worked her way along to the very end and took the seat that ought to have been Hagrid's. That meant the first years must have crossed the lake and reached the castle, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the doors from the Entrance Hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizard's hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim.

The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.

The first-years' faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. Harry recalled, fleetingly, how terrified he had felt when he had stood there, waiting for the unknown test that would determine to which house he belonged.

The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:

[OotP 184-188]

Slowly, the long line of first-yeats thinned. In the pauses between the names and the Sorting Hat's decisions, Harry could hear Ron's stomach rumbling loudly. 

Finally, Zeller, Rose was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

'To our newcomers,' said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, 'welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!'

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate - for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice. 

'Excellent,' said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them on to his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick.

'What were you saying before the Sorting?' Hermione asked the ghost. About the Hat giving warnings?

'Oh, yes,' said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. 'Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within

'Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat,' said Ron. His mouth was so full Harry thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.

'I beg your pardon?' said Nearly Headless Nick politely while Hermione looked revolted. 

Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, 'How can it know if the schools in danger if its a Hat?'

'I have no idea, said Nearly Headless Nick. 'Of course, it lives Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there.'

'And it wants us all to be friends,' said Harry looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco was sat apart from his housemates. Further down the table Nott was holding court. 'Fat chance.'

'Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude,' said Nick reprovingly. 'Peaceful co-operation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron.c

'Only because you're terrified of him,' said Ron. Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.

'Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins -'

'What blood?' asked Ron. 'Surely you haven't still got -'

'- it's a figure of speech!' said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. 'I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death. I assure you!'

'Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you,' said Hermione, throwing a curious look at Ron.

Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all could manage was, 'Node iddum eentup sechew,' which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.

'Well done, Ron,' snapped Hermione

'What?' said Ron indignantly, having managed, finally, to swallow his food. 'I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?'

'Oh, forget it,' said Hermione irritably, and the pair of them spent the rest of the meal in huffy silence. Harry and Neville were too used to their bickering to bother trying to recocile them; Harry felt it was a better use of his time to eat his way steadily through his steak and kidney pie, then a large plateful of his favourite treacle tart.

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again. Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster. Harry was feeling pleasantly drowsy now. His four-poster bed was waiting somewhere above, wonderfully warm and soft ...

'Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,' said Dumbledore. 

'First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.' (Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville exchanged smirks).

'Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door.

'We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Shacklebolt, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.'

There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, during which Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged slightly panicked looks: Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching.

Dumbledore continued, 'Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the second, third, fourth and fifth of September, notices within your common room will tell you when your house is holding their tryouts.'

There was excited murmuring around the Great Hall at this. It was very exciting to be part of the Quidditch team.

'Now, I think we've all had a long day, and you'd all better get an early night's rest in order to best prepare your brains for your first lessons tomorrow!'

'Neville and I are supposed to show the first-years where to go,' said Hermione. 'We'll see you later.' 

The two of them left the table calling, 'First years this way!'

A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group. Looking at them, Harry was sure he had not appeared that young when he had arrived here. He grinned at them, A blond boy next to Euan Abercrombie looked petrified; he nudged Euan and whispered something in his ear Euan Abercrombie looked equally frightened.

Ron laughed. 'He doesn't bite y'know.'

Harry and Ron wove their way through the crowd in the Entrance Hall, then hurried up the marble staircase, took a couple of concealed short cuts, and had soon left most of the crowds behind. They had reached the end of the corridor to the Gryffindor common room and come to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

'Wait a minute,' said Harry. 'Do you know the password?'

'Haven't got a clue!' said Ron. Then he turned to the Fat Lady and said, 'here, let us in, won't you?'

'No password, no entrance,' she said loftily.

'But you know us!' said Ron incredulously. 'This is our fifth year here!'

'No password, no entrance,' said the Fat Lady again, this time more firmly and with slight irritation. 'Not even the Headmaster can get in here without a password.'

'I guess we'll have to wait for Hermione and Neville,' said Harry, sitting at the base of the portrait.

'Yeah, I guess so,' said Ron joining him.

'Mind you, I can't wait to see the first years when they realise we overtook them.'

Soon enough the new students came into view as Hermione and Neville led them down the corridor.

'Welcome to Gryffindor, midgets,' said Ron as they reached the portrait.

'Ron,' Hermione hissed before turning back to the first years. 'This is the portrait of the Fat Lady,' she explained. 'The only way in to the common room is with the password which changes every so often, so make sure to take note of it.'

'Yeah, but don't write them down, eh, Nev,' said Ron, 'anyone could pick them up.'

'Ron!' Hermione hissed again, as Neville's ears turned pink.

'The current password,' said Neville moving swiftly past his third year indiscretion which had allowed the then-criminal, Sirius Black to enter the Gryffindor Tower, 'is _Mimbulus mimbletonia_!'

'Correct,' said the Fat Lady and her portrait swung open towards them like a door revealing a circular hole in the wall behind. The first years gasped in awe.

Ron and Harry led the way into The Gryffindor common room, which looked as welcoming as ever. It was a cosy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands by it before going up to their dormitories. On the other side of the room Fred and George Weasley were pinning something up on the noticeboard. Harry went over to see what it was whilst Ron tormented Hermione, Neville and the first years some more.

_GALLONS OF GALLEONS_

Read the sign.

_Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?  
Like to earn a little extra gold?  
Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room,for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs.  
(We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.)_

'Hermione's not going to like that,' said Harry.

'What's she going to do?' asked Fred. 'Give us detention?'

'Maybe,' said Harry, 'or perhaps she'll write to your mum.'

Fred and George exchanged worried glances.

'She wouldn't ...' said George.

'Percy would,' said Fred.

'Hermione's not as stuck up as Percy,' said George.

'Good point,' said Fred.

'Well, night Harry,' they said in unison as they left for their dorm room

Harry followed their suit. It didn't look like it was going to storm tonight after all, which meant he'd have to be up in time for the sunrise.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had already reached fifth year boys' dormitory and were in the process of covering the walls beside their beds with posters and photographs. 

'Hey, Harry,' said Dean, who was putting on a pair of pyjamas in the West Ham colours. 'Good holiday?'

'Not bad,' muttered Harry, as a true account of his holiday would have taken most of the night to relate. 'You?'

'Yeah, it was, OK' chuckled Dean. 'Better than Seamus, anyway, he was just telling me.'

'Why, what happened?' Harry asked.

Seamus did not answer immediately, he was making rather a meal of ensuring that his poster of the Kenmore Kestrels Quidditch team was quite straight. Then he said, with his back still turned to Harry, 'My mam didn't want me to come back.'

'What?' said Harry, pausing in the act of pulling off his robes.

'She didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts,' Seamus turned away from his poster and pulled his own pyjamas out of his trunk, still not looking at Harry.

'But - why?' said Harry, astonished. He knew that Seamus mother was a witch and could not understand, therefore, why she should have come over so Dursleyish. Seamus did not answer until he had finished buttoning his pyjamas.

'Well,' he said in a measured voice, 'I suppose ... because of you.'

'What d'you mean?' said Harry quickly

His heart was beating rather fast. He felt vaguely as though something was closing in on him. 

'Well,' said Seamus again, still avoiding Harry's eye, 'she thinks you might be dangerous.'

'Dangerous? How?'

Seamus finally looked up at him.

'Well she heard about your trial,' he said slowly. 'And thinks that Sirius Black is leading you astray.'

Harry said nothing. He remembered her distrust of Sirius when they had met her at the Quidditch World Cup the year before.

He threw his wand down on to his bedside table, pulled off his robes, stuffed them angrily into his trunk and pulled on his pyjamas. He was sick of it: sick of being the person who is stared at and talked about all the time. If any of them knew. if any of them had the faintest idea what it felt like to be the one all these things had happened to ... Mrs Finnigan had no idea, the stupid woman, he thought savagely. He got into bed and pulled the hangings closed around him. He didn't have the energy to argue with Seamus tonight.

He heard Dean and Seamus muttering before they pulled their own hangings closed. A short while after that he finally heard Ron and Neville come into the dorm room and get into their own four-posters. And soon enough he had drifted off to sleep.


	78. Professor Shacklebolt

Harry awoke, performed the ritual once more and lay in his bed listening to the rain hitting the windows. Still no lightning yet.

After a while he got dressed and made his way down to the silent common room where he made himself comfortable in a seat by the fire and began to read _Flying with the Harpies: The Glynnis Griffiths Story_ an autobiography of a former seeker with the Holyhead Harpies that Ginny had bought him for his birthday.

He had reached her time at Hogwarts before anyone else came down. He put his book in his bag, knowing that his friends would be down sooner or later. Sure enough, as more and more Gryffindors headed down for breakfast Ron and Neville had joined Harry by the fire.

'You're up early,' said Ron, 'excited to be back or something?'

'Something like that, yeah,' said Harry.

A moment later Hermione had joined them too, and the Ginny.

'Shall we head down for breakfast then?' said Hermione. 'We don't want to be late on our first - oh for goodness sake!'

She had just seen Fred and George's sign.

'They are the limit,' she said grimly, taking it down. Fred and George had pinned up over a poster giving the date of the first Hogsmeade weekend, which was to be in October. 'We'll have to talk to them, Neville. Now that we're prefects, it's up to us to stop this kind of thing!'.

'Good luck with that,' laughed Ron. 'Mum's been telling them off for years and that's made no difference!'

'I wonder when we'll have Kingsley,' said Ron, as they walked down a flight of stairs lined with portraits of old witches and wizards, all of whom ignored them, being engrossed in their own conversation. 

'Ron!' hissed Hermione.

'What?' said Ron, taken aback at her sharpness.

'You must call him Professor Shacklebolt,' Hermione said in an undertone. 'We're not supposed to know him, remember?'

'Oh, right, yeah,' said Ron.

'How do you reckon Draco got on last night?' said Neville. 'First night back in the Slytherin common room for over a year ... must be weird.'

'Well as long as Zabini kept an eye on Nott he should've been fine,' said Ginny optimistically.

They had reached the foot of the marble staitcase so would find out soon enough, no doubt. They followed a group of fourth year Ravenclaws into the Great Hall, all looking instinctively at the staff table as they entered. Professor Grubbly-Plank was chatting to Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, and Hagrid was once again conspicuous only by his absence. The enchanted ceiling above them echoed Harry's mood, it was a miserable rain-cloud grey. 

'Dumbledore didn't even mention how long that Grubbly-Plank woman's staying,' he said, as they made their way across to the Gryffindor table.

'Maybe ...' said Hermione thoughtfully

'What?' said both Harry and Ron together.

'Well maybe he didn't want to draw attention to Hagrid not being here.'

'What d'you mean, draw attention to it?' said Ron, half-laughing. 'How could we not notice?'

Before Hermione could answer, a tall black girl with long braided hair had marched up to Harry.

'Hi, Angelina.'

'Hi,' she said briskly, 'good summer?' And without waiting for an answer, 'Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.'

'Nice one,' said Harry, grinning at her; he suspected Angelina's pep talks might not be as long-winded as Oliver Wood's had been, which could only be an improvement. 

'Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver's left. Tryouts are on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in.'

'OK,' said Harry.

Angelina smiled at him then turned to Ginny. 'You should try-out,' she said before departing.

'I'd forgotten Wood had left,' said Hermione vaguely as she sat down beside Ron and pulled a plate of toast towards her 'l suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?'

'I s'pose,' said Harry, taking the bench opposite. 'He good was a Keeper.'

'Still, it won't hurt to have some new blood, will it?' said Ron. 'What d'you reckon, Ginny? Going to give it a go?'

'Maybe,' said Ginny thoughtfully, helping herself to some bacon, 'but I don't know if Keeper's my style.'

'She's after your job, Harry,' said Ron. 'And who can blame her, when she beat you to that snitch last year!'

'No, don't worry,' Ginny laughed, 'I've always preferred Chasing.'

Professor McGonagall was now moving along the table handing out timetables. As she was doing so he looked at the Slytherin table. He could see no sign of Draco.

'That's an interesting first day,' said Ron. 'History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defence Against the Dark Arts. At least we'll get to see what Professor Shacklebolt is like.' He had emphasised Professor Shacklebolt for Hermione's benefit, who ignored him.

'I'll let you know at lunch,' said Ginny. 'I've got him first thing.'

'Looking forward to your OWLs this year, you lot?' came a voice from behind Harry. He turned and saw Cedric grinning at them. 'They're pretty tough, let me tell that for nothing. Mind you, I've got my NEWT exams coming up, wanna swap?'

After they all assured him they didn't he continued, 'Professor Black wants everyone to know he's hosting the first Slug Club this Friday night this year.'

'Friday?' said Harry. 'That's the Gryffindor Quidditch trials ...'

'Well I'm sure he'll let you off this once,' said Cedric, 'you know how understanding he can be about Quidditch.'

Cedric left them to finish their breakfast.

'I don't get it,' said Harry, 'surely he would know that I have to be at the try-outs.'

'Dunno what you're moaning about,' said Ron. 'From the sounds of things all you do is eat dinner and pay each other on the back.'

'Oh, no, Ron,' said Hermione. 'There's much more to it than that. We debate, discuss events in the wider wizarding world ...'

'At one point you were going to leave, because you thought it was a load of old rubbish,' said Ron. '

'D'you reckon it's true this year's going to be really tough?' said Harry, cutting their argument short.

'Oh, yeah,' said Ron. 'Bound to be, isn't it? OWLs are really important, affect the jobs you can apply for and everything. We get career advice, too later this year. Bill told me. So you can choose what NEWTs you want to do next year.'

They finished their breakfast, said bye to Ginny as she went to her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and set off towards their History of Magic classroom. 

'D'you know what you want to do after Hogwarts?' Harry asked the others.

'Not really,' said Ron slowly. 'Except ... well ...'

He looked slightly sheepish. 

'What?' Harry urged him.

'Well, it'd be cool to be an Auror,' said Ron in an off-hand voice 

'Yeah, it would,' said Harry fervently. 

'But they're, like, the elite,' said Ron. 'You've got to be really good. What about you, Hermione?'

'I don't know,' she said. 'I think I'd like to do something really worthwhile.'

'An Auror's worthwhile!' said Harry.

'Yes, it is, but it's not the only worthwhile thing,' said Hermione thoughtfully, 'I mean, if I could take SPEW further ...'

'What about you, Neville,' said Ron, quickly changing subject.

'Well I think Gran wants me to be an Auror like my dad was,' said Neville. 'But I'm with Hermione, I think I could put my talents to better use somewhere else ...'

History of Magic was by common consent the most boring subject ever devised by wizardkind. Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, had a wheezy, droning voice that was almost guaranteed to cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes, five in warm weather. He never varied the form of their lessons, but lectured them without pausing while they took notes, or rather, gazed sleepily into space. Harry, Ron and Neville had so far managed to scrape passes in this subject only by copying Hermione's notes before exams, she alone seemed able to resist the soporific power of Binn's voice.

Today, they suffered an hour and a half's droning on the subject of giant wars. Harry heard just enough within the first ten minutes to appreciate dimly that in another teacher's hands this subject might have been mildly interesting, but then his brain disengaged, and he spent the remaining hour and twenty minutes playing hangman on a corner of his parchment with Ron, while Hermione shot them filthy looks out of the corner of her eye.

'How would it be,' she asked them coldly, as they left the classroom for break (Binns drifting away through the blackboard), 'if I refused to lend you my notes this year?'

'We'd fail our OWL,' said Ron 'If you want that on your conscience, Hermione ...'

'Well, you'd deserve it,' she snapped. 'You don't even try to listen to him, do you?'

'We do try,' said Ron. 'We just haven't got your brains or your memory or your concentration - you're just cleverer than we are - is it nice to rub it in?'

'Oh, don't give me that rubbish,' said Hermione, but she looked slightly mollified as she led the way out into the damp courtyard.

After a chilly break, under a heavily dripping balcony, the four of them headed to potions, and for the first time since the previous night's feast they saw Draco.

'Glad to be back?' Ron asked him as they walked into the dungeon for their first Potion lesson of the year.

'Not sure yet,' said Draco. 'No problems from Nott so far, but it's only a matter of time. Oh, and Slytherin are trying out for a new Seeker on Thursday. I'm off the team.'

'Are they allowed to do that?' asked Neville.

'Well,' said Draco, 'Montague reckons that because I left Hogwarts last year for Durmstrang, I couldn't have been on the team last year, therefore the position is vacant.'

'But no one played,' said Neville. 'In fact you played in the competition last year with Harry and Krum, so played more Quidditch than anyone else did!'

'Yeah, well I'm not going to argue,' said Draco. 'I'm not even sure if I want to be on the team.'

'But you've improved so much,' said Harry, 'you'd be stupid not to continue!'

They couldn't continue their conversation though, as Professor Black walked into the dungeon.

'Good morning, class,' he said to his silent students. 'Welcome back to Hogwarts. This year you will be sitting your Odrinary Wizarding Levels. In this class there are currently two students on track for an outstanding mark in Potions. I don't think I need to tell you who those students are. A few of you I have no doubt can push yourselves to achieve an Exceeds Expectations, which would allow you to continue with this class for your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. Most of you will scape an Acceptable. I fear though, that there are a couple among you who even I cannot get above a Troll grade. I hope you prove me wrong there.'

As usual, Professor Black spoke very soft and low and, as usual, every student listened tentatively.

'You will be working solo today, partners are not a luxury afforded to you in your exams. You will be tackling a common potion to be tested at OWL level, the Draught of Peace. The ingredients and method are on the blackboard. You have an hour and a half to complete the Draught. Good luck.'

There was a flurry of excitement. Normally Black would walk them through the method first, explaining common ways they might go wrong whilst brewing the potion, but today they were diving in at the deep end.

Professor Black could hardly have set them a more difficult, fiddly potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities, the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions: the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added. Working in silence, Professor Black watched from the front of the class, making notes every so often.

When Professor Black announced there were only ten minutes left, Harry, who was sweating profusely, looked desperately around the dungeon. His own cauldron was issuing copious amounts of dark grey steam, Ron's was spitting green sparks. Seamus was fever ishly prodding the flames at the base of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they seemed to be going out. The surfaces of both Neville and Hermione's potion, however, were a shimmering mist of silver vapour, which Harry assumed was how they were meant to look.

Finally Black called time and everyone collected a flagon of their attempts which they took in turn to Professor Black's desk as he called their names. As they offered them to him he told them where they had gone wrong. When Goyle tried to fill his flagon the flagon shattered and the potion set his robes on fire.

As Harry had expected, Hermione and Neville got full marks. When his own name was called out, he walked up with trepidation. Black took one look at the potion and said, 'read me the third line of the method please, Mr Potter.'

Harry squinted at the blackboard; it was not easy to make out the instructions through the haze of multi-coloured steam now filling the dungeon. 

'"Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counter-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore."'

His heart sank. He had not added syrup of hellebore, but had proceeded straight to the fourth line of the instructions after allowing his potion to simmer for seven minutes.

'Did you forget something, Me Potter?'

'Yes,' said Harry very quietly.

'And what was that?'

'I forgot the hellebore.'

'That,' said Professor Black, 'is why your potion is dark grey in colour and thick in consistency, rather than the fine silvery liquid it should be. However this is the only mistake you made, and, rather than being simply at peace, if you were to take this potion you would sleep for about a week. So you've avoided death, at least. I would imagine you would receive an Acceptable mark had you handed this in on your final exam.'

Acceptable. Harry was happy with that. Maybe his OWLs wouldn't be so hard after all.

After everyone had handed their flagons in to Professor Black, Harry packed his equipment away quickly and walked up to his desk.

'I already know why you're here, Mr Potter,' Black said without looking up from the papers he was arranging. 'I understand that Quidditch comes first, so I don't expect that I'll be seeing you on Friday.'

'Er ... no, Professor,' Harry said. 'You could perhaps postpone the dinner so that I could attend?'

'I think not,' said Professor Black. 'Sometimes I'm life things occur simultaneously and you have to decide which is most important. Whilst I have you here, though, Mr Potter, please be aware that I expect you to receive an Exceeds Expectations grade in your Potion OWL this year. But you'll only get there if you put in the hard work I know you're capable of.'

Harry knew that this was the end of the conversation and joined the others for lunch in the Great Hall where rain was lashing the high windows.

'I quite enjoyed that,' Neville said, tucking into his shepherds pie. 'Being able to brew a potion on our own, I mean.'

'Yeah, well you would,' said Ron morosely. 'You got an Outstanding for yours. I doubt you'd be so happy if you'd gotten a Poor like me.'

'Oh cheer up,' said Harry, 'we've got Trelawney next.'

Ron groaned even loader at this. Divination had to be their least favourite lesson by far, mainly due to Professor Trelawney's prediction of Harry's death every other lesson.

'And then you've got Professor S,' said Ginny joining them at the table. 'And he's as brilliant as you'd expect.'

With something to look forward to Harry, Ron and Neville made their way to North Tower.

'Come back, you scurvy dog'! Stand fast and fight!' yelled Sir Cadogan in a muffled voice from behind his visor, as they passed his portrait.

When Sir Cadogan brandished his sword and attempted to follow them by running into a neighbouring picture, he was rebuffed by its inhabitant, a large and angry-looking wolfhound.

They got to the the trapdoor at the top of North Tower just as the bell rang and made their way up the little silver ladder.

Professor Trelawney was a thin woman, heavily draped in shawls and glittering with strings of beads, she always reminded Harry of some kind of insect, with her glasses hugely magnifying her eyes. She had put copies of battered leather-bound books on each of the spindly little tables with which her room was littered. Harry, Ron and Neville found a table in the shadows.

'Good-day,' said Professor Trelawney in her usual misty, dreamy voice. 'And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely - as, of course, I knew you would.

'You will find on the tables before you copies of The Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that may very probably be tested in your OWL. Not, of course, that I believe examination passes or failures are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, certificates and grades matter very little. However, the Headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so ...'

Her voice trailed away delicately, leaving them all in no doubt that Professor Trelawney considered her subject above such sordid matters as examinations.

'Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs. Use The Dream Oracle to interpret each other's most recent dreams. Carry on.'

The one good thing to be said for this lesson was that it was not a double period. By the time they had all finished reading the introduction of the book, they had barely ten minutes left for dream interpretation. At the table next to Harry and Ron, Neville had paired up with Dean, and embarked on a long-winded explanation of a nightmare involving a pair of giant scissors wearing his grandmother's best hat; Harry and Ron merely looked at each other glumly.

'I never remember my dreams,' said Ron, 'you say one.'

'You must remember one of them,' said Harry impatiently. 

He was not going to share his dreams with anyone. He knew perfectly well what his regular nightmare about a graveyard meant. It was bad enough reliving the night Voldemort returned in his dreams, he didn't want to do it in class as well.

'Well, I dreamed I was playing Quidditch the other night,' said Ron, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. 'What d'you reckon that means?'

'Probably that you're going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something,' said Harry, turning the pages of The Dream Oracle without interest. It was very dull work looking up bits of dreams in the Oracle and Harry was not cheered up when Professor Trelawney set them the task of keeping a dream diary for a month as homework. When the bell went, he, Ron and Neville led the way back down the ladder, Ron grumbling loudly.

'D'you realise how much homework we've got already? Binns set us a foot-and-a-half-long essay on giant wars. Black wants a foot on the uses of Draught of Peace and now we've got a month's dream diary from Trelawney! Cedric wasn't wrong about OWL year, was he? Kingsley had better not give us any.'

When they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Kingsley stood at the front of the classroom, in sky blue robes, with a sun pattern. The desks were moved to the sides of the room, which gave way to whispers of great excitement.

'Good afternoon, everyone,' Kingsley said in his deep bass voice, once everyone was inside, 'and welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. As Professor Dumbledore told you last night, my name is Professor Shacklebolt, but you can call me Professor S. I want to keep a nice relaxed atmosphere in my classroom, I often find this is the best way to learn. That's not to say there aren't any rules. 

'I don't want any messing around. We will be learning many dangerous spells this year - though none as dangerous as those taught to you last year by Professor Moody. I want utmost respect for your fellow students. If someone is struggling with a spell, do not mock them. These are you Ordinary Wizarding Levels, so expect to encounter difficulty. We encourage in my classroom.

'And I want you to trust that I know what I'm doing. I am an Auror in the Ministry, so I have some experience.'

At this there was a murmur of excitement that passed around the class. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville had to feign surprise that their teacher was an actual Auror. Moody had been one too, but he was retired. Professor S was a living, breathing, working Auror.

'Wow,' said Ron to Parvati, 'can you believe it? I know I can't. Who'd have thought it, our teacher is an Auror!'

Harry couldn't help but find Ron to be unconvincing in his pretence, but apparently Parvati didn't notice as she and Lavender squealed.

'He's quite good looking as well,' Harry heard them whisper.

'OK,' said Kingsley, bringing the class back to silence. 'Let's learn some defensive spells. Let's imagine you're in a duel, what spells can you think of that would prevent your opponent from continuing their attack? Remember, we're talking defensive here, not offensive.'

The class was full of blank faces. Moody had taught them how to cope with attacks, but not how to block them. Remus, who had taught them the previous year, had focused on defense against magical creatures. The year before that Professor Lockhart had been no use whatsoever, and the only thing Harry could remember from Quirrell's lessons was Flipendo, which pushed large objects out of the way.

Harry had been in a duel before though, and there was a spell that had saved him in that. He raised his hand.

'Ah, Mr Potter,' said Kingsley, 'I thought you might know one or two.'

'Expelliarmus,' Harry offered.

'Perfect!' said Kingsley. 'The disarming spell. This is a simple, but effective spell to have in your arsenal. It causes the target to have their wand flung from their hands, allowing you precious seconds to make your next move. Harry, why don't you join me up here.'

Harry made his way to the front of the class and stood next to Kingsley.

'Take out your wand and walk ten paces that way then turn to face me again.'

Harry did as instructed and as he turned he saw that Kingsley had made his way to the other side of the room.

'I'd like you to demonstrate to the class how to perform Expelliarmus. When you're ready cast the spell on me. I want the rest of you to note Harry's wand movement, and intonation.'

Kingsley took a duelling position, his wand high above his head.

'Expelliarmus!' Harry cried, causing Kingsley's wand to fly high into the air. It clattered against the window, before falling to the ground behind Kingsley.

'Excellent, excellent,' Kingsley boomed. So you can all see how simple and effective that is. Harry did that perfectly. Now if split off into pairs I'd like you to practise on one another. Take it in turns to begin with, then in twenty minutes we'll have a competition to see who's quickest on the draw.'

*

'He's just as good as Remus,' Ron was saying as they left the class. 'That was such a fun lesson.'

'Yes,' said Hermione, 'though I'm not sure whether Expelliarmus will come up on our exams.'

'He's just getting us to grips with the basics,' said Harry. 'It's what I'd do. If you know the simple defences, you can work your way up to the harder stuff like a Patronus.'

Even Hermione had to concede that Harry had a point here. After the day's lessons Harry was more optimistic about the OWLs they would be sitting later in the year. Sure, he might struggle with History of Magic and Divination, but he didn't really need those anyway. In Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts though, he was onto a winner.


	79. The Storm

After dinner that night, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville took their four favourite chairs at the fireside and began their homework.

Just as Hermione was about to talk the boys through her notes on the Giant Wars for their History of Magic homework she became distracted by Fred, George and Lee Jordan, who were in a far corner of the room, sitting at the centre of a knot of innocent-looking first years, all of whom were chewing something that seemed to have come out of a large paper bag that Fred was holding.

'No, I'm sorry, they've gone too far,' she said, standing up and looking positively furious. 'Come on, Neville.'

'Can we stop then handing out sweets?' said Neville, clearly not wanting to tell Fred and George off.

'You know perfectly well that those are bits of Nosebleed Nougat or - or Puking Pastilles or -

'Fainting Fancies?' Harry suggested quietly.

One by one, as though hit over the head with an invisible mallet, the first-years were slumping unconscious in their seats, some slid right on to the floor, others merely hung over the arms of their chairs, their tongues lolling out. Most of the people watching were laughing; Hermione, however, squared her shoulders and marched directly over to where Fred and George now stood with clipboards, closely observing the unconscious first-years. Neville followed reluctantly.

'This should be good,' Ron said to Harry.

'That's enough,' Hermione said forcefully to Fred and George, both of whom looked up in mild surprise.

as

'Yeah, you're right,' said George, nodding, 'this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?'

'You can't test your rubbish on students!'

'We're paying them!' said Fred indignantly,

'I don't care, it could be dangerous.'

'Rubbish,' said Fred.

'Calm down, Hermione, they're fine!' said Lee reassuringly as he walked from first-year to first-year, inserting purple sweets into their open mouths.

'Yeah, look, they're coming round now,' said George.

A few of the first years were indeed stirring. Several looked so shocked to find themselves lying on the floor, or dangling off their chairs, that Harry was sure Fred and George had not warned them what the sweets were going to do.

'Feel all right?' said George kindly to a small dark-haired girl lying at his feet.

'I-I think so,' she said shakily.

'Excellent,' said Fred happily, but the next second Hermione had snatched both his clipboard and the paper bag of Fainting Fancies from his hands. Neville was still hovering behind her, not wanting to get too involved.

'It is NOT excellent!'

'Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?' said Fred angrily.

'You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?'

'We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same -'

'If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to -'

'Put us in detention?' said Fred, in an I'd-like-to-see-you-try-it voice.

'Make us write lines?' said George, smirking.

Onlookers all over the room were laughing. Hermione drew her sell up to her full height her eyes were narrowed and her bushy hair seemed to crackle with electricity.

'No,' she said, her voice quivering with anger, but I will write to your mother.'

'Brilliant,' whispered Ron in awe.

'You wouldn't,' said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.

'Oh, yes, I would,' said Hermione grimly. 'I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not to give them first-years.'

Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that as far as they were concerned, Hermione's threat was way below the belt. With a last threatening look at them, she thrust Fred's clipboard and the bag of Fancies back into his arms, and stalked back to her chair by the fire.

Neville gave the twins an apologetic shrug and followed Hermione back to the fireside.

'Thank you for your support, Neville,' Hermione said acidly 

'To be fair 'Mione, you handled it fine by yourself. Not much Neville could've said to help,' Ron said.

Hermione stared down at her blank piece of parchment for a few seconds, then said edgily, 'Oh, it's no good, I can't concentrate now. I'm going to bed.'

She wrenched her bag open and stuffed her books back into her bag. 'I'll see you in the morning,' she said, swinging her bag on to her back and leaving for the girl's dormitory 

'Well,' he said as he rolled up the parchment on which he had written merely a title for Professor Binns, 'there's no point trying to finish this now. I can't do this without Hermione, I haven't got a clue what happened in the Giant Wars, have you?'

Harry and Neville shook their heads. 

'I could help you with Professor Black's homework,' said Neville. 

Harry looked out of his window. Still no sign of lightning yet, though it was probably worth staying up on the off chance.

But two hours later, when they finally finished Professor Black's essay and went to bed, it was still only rain beating against the windows.

*

The following day dawned just as leaden and rainy as the previous night, and Hagrid was still absent from the staff table at breakfast.

That morning they had double Charms, which was succeeded by double Transfiguration.

Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spent the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of OWLs.

'What you must remember,' said little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched as ever on a pile of books so that he could see over the top of his desk, 'is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!'

They then spent over an hour revising Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick were bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounded off the lesson by setting them their largest ever amount of Charms homework. It was the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration.

'You cannot pass an OWL,' said Professor McGonagall grimly, 'without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work. Today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL.'

She was quite right; Harry found the Vanishing Spells horribly difficult. By the end of a double period neither he nor Ron had managed to vanish the snails on which they were practising, though Ron said hopefully he thought his looked a bit paler. Hermione, on the other hand, successfully vanished her snail on the third attempt, earning her a ten-point bonus for Gryffindor from Professor McGonagall. 

It was Neville who was the biggest surprise though. Previously he had always struggled at wandwork, and Charms and Transfiguration were particularly tough for him. But after five attempts he made his snail vanish from his desk.

'Excellent work, Mr Longbottom,' said Professor McGonagall. 'I expect great things from you this year. It seems your own wand will serve you well. Ten points to Gryffindor.'

Neville and Hermione were the only people not given homework, everybody else was told to practise the spell overnight, ready for a fresh attempt on their snails the following afternoon.

Now panicking slightly about the amount of homework they had to do, Harry and Ron spent their lunch hour in the library working on their History of Magic homework, where they were joined by Neville and helped by Hermione. By the time they reached Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon, Harry's head was aching again.

The day had become cool and breezy, and as they walked down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they felt the occasional drop of rain on their faces. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long trestle table in front of her laden with twigs. 

As Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione reached her, a loud shout of laughter sounded behind them: turning, they saw Draco Malfoy face down in the mud.

He had clearly just been knocked down by Crabbe and Goyle.

Unfortunately Professor Grubbly-Plank hadn't seen this.

'Everyone here?' she barked, as Draco dusted himself down and joined Harry and his friends. 'Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?'

She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shot into the air. Behind her back, Harry saw Nott whisper something to Pansy Parkinson who gave a shriek of laughter that turned almost at once into a scream, as the twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixie-ish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, bark like face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.

'Oooooh!' said Parvati and Lavender, thoroughly irritating Harry. Anyone would have thought Hagrid had never shown them impressive creatures. 

'Kindly keep your voices down, girls!' said Professor Grubbly-Plank sharply, scattering a handful of what looked like brown rice among the stick-creatures, who immediately fell upon the food..

'So - anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?' 

'Bowtruckles,' said Hermione. 'They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees.'

'Five points for Gryffindor,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank. 'Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality.' 

'Anybody know what they eat?'

'Woodlice,' said Hermione promptly, which explained why what Harry had taken to be grains of brown rice were moving. 'But fairy eggs if they can get them.'

'Good girl, take another five points. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a Bowtruckle - I have enough here for one between three - you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body-parts labelled by the end of the lesson.'

The class surged forwards around the trestle table. Harry deliberately circled around the back so that he ended up right next to Professor Grubbly-Plank.

'Where's Hagrid?" he asked her, while everyone else was choosing Bowtruckles.

'Never you mind,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank repressively, which had been her attitude last time Hagrid had failed to turn up for a class, too. 

Defeated, he hurried back around the table to Neville and Draco (Ron and Hermione had teamed up Dean Thomas) who were squatting on the grass some distance away and attempting to persuade a Bowtruckle to remain still long enough for them to draw it. Harry pulled out parchment and quill and crouched down beside the others.

'She's not giving anything away about where Hagrid is,' he said. 'Anyway,' he said to Draco, 'what happened earlier. How'd you end up in the mud?'

'Nott's had it in for me since I came back. He's made it very clear that Blaise and Daphne should not interfere.'

'That's ridiculous,' said Neville. 'Surely they can tell Professor Black?'

'Tell his what?' said Draco. 'That they pushed me over? They'll just say that they didn't see me there. The thing is, Theo is being very careful about not using magic, which means it's harder to prove. And Daphne and Blaise don't want to be targets too do they? So they won't be seen to be taking points away from their own house.'

Draco suddenly tensed. Harry turned around and saw that Nott had walked over to where they were sat with Crabbe and Goyle.

'Ah, yes,' he said loudly, 'the lighting is much better over here. 'Where's that big oaf of gamekeeper?' he continued quietly as they sat down next to Harry, Neville and Draco. 'Finally got the sack did he? It's about time. I couldn't believe it when Dumbledore announced that a half-breed was going to teach us.'.

'OUCH!'

Harry had gripped the Bowtruckle so hard that it had almost snapped, and it had just taken a great retaliatory swipe at his hand with its sharp fingers, leaving two long deep cuts there. Harry dropped it and Crabbe and Goyle, who had already been guffawing at the idea of Hagrid being sacked, laughed still harder as the Bowtruckle set off at full tilt towards the Forest, a little moving Stick-man soon swallowed up among the tree roots. 

'Your father had the right idea, Draco, sending you to Durmstrang,' Nott continued. 'What happened? Too dark for you? Or were you just going to miss you boyfriend too much?'

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered again. Harry, Neville and Draco moved to Hermione, Ron and Dean, to both get away from Nott and his cronies and so they could use their Bowtruckle to finish their drawings.

When the bell echoed distantly over the grounds, Harry rolled up his blood-stained Bowtruckle picture and marched off to Herbology with his hand wrapped in Hermione's handkerchief, and Nott's derisive laughter still ringing in his ears.

'I hope Draco's alright,' Neville said as they traipsed across the vegetable patch. 'It sounds like hell for him at the moment.' The sky still appeared unable to make up its mind whether it wanted to rain or not.

'Yeah,' Harry agreed. 'And I wish Hagrid would hurry up and get back - and don't say that Grubbly-Plank woman's a better teacher!' he added threateningly.

'I wasn't going to,' said Hermione calmly. 

'Because she'll never be as good as Hagrid,' said Harry firmly, fully aware that he had just experienced an exemplary Care of Magical Creatures lesson and was thoroughly annoyed about it.

The door of the nearest greenhouse opened and some fourth years spilled out of it, including Ginny. 

'Hello,' she said brightly, pecking Harry on the cheek. 'You've looked happier.' 

'I'll tell you later,' Harry said. 

A few seconds later, Luna Lovegood emerged, trailing behind the rest of the class, a smudge of earth on her nose, and her hair tied in a knot on the top of her head. When she saw Harry, her prominent eyes seemed to bulge excitedly and she waved at him, before she flounced away, radishes swinging madly. 

To nobody's surprise, Professor Sprout started their lesson by lecturing them about the importance of OWLs. Harry wished all the teachers would stop doing this, he was starting to get an anxious, twisted feeling in his stomach every time he remembered how much homework he had to do, a feeling that worsened dramatically when Professor Sprout gave them yet another essay at the end of class. Tired and smelling strongly of dragon dung, Professor Sprout's preferred type of fertiliser, the Gryffindors trooped back up to the castle an hour and a half later, none of them talking very much, it had been another long day.

'So why so glum?' Ginny asked Harry at dinner. Harry told her all about their Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

'And on top of that,' he said, 'the homework is really piling up. Two days in and we've already been given two essays, have to practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a counter-charm for Flitwick, finish the Bowtruckle drawing and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?'

Ron moaned and for some reason glanced up at the ceiling. 'And a looks like it's going to rain.'

'Whats that got to do with our homework?' said Hermione.

'Nothing,' said Ron, 'but no one likes the rain, do they?'

'Well personally,' said Hermione, staring at Harry as he yawned, 'I think a storm would be a good thing.'

She had a point. These early mornings weren't helping Harry's concentration. He was feeling more and more tired every day having to get up before each dawn.

*

As the week progressed Harry felt he would have to make a choice sooner or later - becoming an Animagus, or focusing on his schoolwork. But if he gave up his attempt to become an Animagus now then the last month and a half would be for nothing. He had to persevere.

Each morning he would get up early to do his spell, hen he'd read some more of his book, before going to breakfast. Then he'd make his way through the schoolday, he always found it most difficult to stay awake in the lesson just after lunch. Then, after dinner he would stay up with Ron, Hermione and Neville finishing off their homework, spend a little time with Ginny when he could find it, and go to bed where he stayed up as long as he could in case the rain brought lightning with it. He also had to find an excuse to leave and perform the ritual each day at sundown.

Finally Friday came, and with it, Quidditch trials.

'Need I remind you,' Angelina said as her team was assembled in front of her in their Quidditch robes, 'we are the current Hogwarts champions. In order to retain that title, we need to find ourselves a keeper today that's good enough to join Puddlesmore United.'

They trudged out onto the Quidditch pitch where rain was pouring down on the hopeful try-outs were gathered. Harry noticed Ron was with them, holding a borrowed Cleansweep Seven. He smiled at Harry nervously. Harry walked over to him.

'Why didn't you tell me you were trying out?' he shouted over the howling wind.

'I thought you might laugh ...' said Ron, turning slightly pink.

'Laugh?' said Harry. 'I think it's brilliant! It'd be really cool if you got on the team! I've never seen you play Keeper, are you good?'

'I'm not bad,' said Ron, who looked immensely relieved at Harry's reaction. 'Charlie, Fred and George always made me Keep for them when they were training during the holidays.'

'Well, good luck,' he said as he left Ron to rejoin his team.

'I don't see your girlfriend, Potter,' said Angelina squinting at the assembled hopefuls.

'She'll be at Black's dinner,' said Harry. 'Besides, she doesn't like Keeping, she said.'

Angelina shrugged. 'Good conditions,' she said. 'This'll test them. We can really see what they're made of.'

'Can we get on with it?' came a whiny voice. 'Only, most of us would prefer to be in the castle where it's warm and dry.'

The voice belonged to a seventh year who Harry had seen in the common room before now, but didn't know the name of.

'Yes, Hooper,' said Angelina impatiently. 'Tell you what, why don't you go first? Get on your broom, and try and stop us from scoring.'

Hooper got on his broom and flew to the goal-hoops.

'Katie, Alicia, we'll be attempting to score as usual. I want us all to have five goes at getting the Quaffle past him. Fred, George, throw a bludger at him every so often, see how he copes. Harry, you're behind the goals, make sure you grab the Quaffle as it goes past and get it back to one of us ladies as quickly as possible. We've got a few candidates to get through. You'll have to keep score too and just watch in general how focused he is whilst I'm flying around, OK?'

The team nodded and flew off to their positions.

'How long do you think this is going to take?' Hooper asked Harry as he took his place behind the goalposts.

'Not long,' said Harry, catching the first Quaffle as it flew through the centre hoop and tossing it back to Angelina who shouted, 'focus, Hooper!'

Hooper caught the next three Quaffles, missed another two goals, (one as he dodged a bludger from George) but defended all but one of the next attempts from the Chasers, meaning he had only conceded four goals.

As he was replaced by a third year called Martin Arnsdale, Harry heard him moaning that the first goal shouldn't have counted. Arnsdale proved useless, letting all but one of his Quaffles through. The next five try-outs didn't fare much better - poor Dennis Creevey had to be taken to the hospital wing after a bludger dislocated his shoulder.

'This happened to Harry in his second year too!' he said excitedly as his friends carried him back to the castle. 

Fourth Year, Vicky Frobisher was the next to try out, equalling Hooper's attempt. Finally it was Ron's turn.

Harry could tell he was nervous by the way he zig zagged his way to the goal hoops.

'Relax!' he shouted above the wind, 'you'll be fine.'

Suddenly a lightning bolt struck from the sky. It made Harry jump and he missed the Quaffle as it sailed past. He raced down to get as thunder rumbled overhead. This was the storm he'd been waiting for. Of course it would come now, as he was playing Quidditch.

He took the Quaffle to Angelina.

'I need to go!' he shouted at her.

'What?' she shouted in return.

'I NEED TO LEAVE!' Harry yelled.

'I HEARD YOU!' retorted Angelina. 'BUT I COULDNT BELIEVE THAT'S WHAT YOU SAID! YOU'LL STAY UNTIL RON HAS FINISHED IN GOAL, HOWEVER LONG THAT TAKES. HE'S THE LAST TRY-OUT! AND THEN I WANT TO DO SOME PRACTISING AS A TEAM TO SEE HOW THE POTENTIAL KEEPERS FIT IN!'

Harry flew back to his post. How was he going to get out of this without annoying Angela. But if he didn't then he would have wasted all this time preparing for his transformation.

Seeing no way out, Harry continued in his role, hoping that the storm wouldn't pass.

Ron had caught five of the Quaffles sent his way, so not the best, but far from the worst. 

Angelina called everyone together.

'I think we'll call it a day on this,' she said as the lightning flashed once more. 'It's getting a little dangerous as only a try-out. Everyone get changed and back to the common room. I'll talk with the team and we'll let you know who the new keeper us when we get back.'

The remaining hopefuls left to get changed (Hooped complaining that he could have left as soon as his turn was over).

'Hooper and Frobisher both tied at the top,' Harry said to his teammates in an attempt to get a quick decision made.

'Well Hooper's a whiny git,' said Angelina, 'and Vicky told me it was lucky that Charms Club doesn't start up again until next Friday, and that would always come before Quidditch. Who was the next best?'

Harry went through the candidates again in his head and figured that the next best player was -

'Ron.'

'Well, he wasn't perfect,' Angelina sighed. 'But he's from good stock. And if we can't have his sister ... I reckon with a bit of training he'll be alright.'

'Great,' said Harry and the thunder rumbled ominously overhead. 'Now I've really got to go!'

He hopped on his broom and raced back to the castle. He ran through the Entrance Hall and up the great Marble Staircase.

'Uh-oh,' came a voice from above. 'Filchy's only just cleaned this staircase. He's not going to be happy when he sees this mess, is he now?'

It was Peeves, cackling in delight.

'Please don't!' Harry begged. The last thing he needed now was to be caught be Filch for muddying his floors.

'Oh Fi-i-i-ilch!' bellowed Peeves in a sing song voice. Harry bolted for it. He had never made it to Gryffindor Tower in such little time.

Panting he offered the password to the Fat Lady, scrambled through the portrait hole and ran up to the boy's dormitory.

There he stripped out of his Quidditch robes, put on a clean set, as well as some clean shoes, grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and the vial that he had stuck to the inside corner of his trunk. With the cloak on he dodged through his fellow Gryffindors in the common room; made his way back down through the castle, shuffled past Filch who was howling about students muddying up his corridors (his cat Mrs Norris followed him with her lamp-like eyes, once again giving Harry the feeling that she could see through Invisibility Cloaks); and left the Entrance Hall just as the Gryffindor hopefuls were trudging in from the storm.

'It'd be a travesty if I _wasn't_ picked,' Harry heard Hooper telling the others.

Harry made his way across the grounds to the Whomping Willow - which was planted over the entrance to the Shrieking Shack. He found a long stick on the ground and used it to prod the knot that freezed the tree from attacking, slid down the hole and made his way along the tunnel. Finally he made it to the Shrieking Shack itself, the wind was howling around him, rain was lashing the windows, lighting struck again, and, as the low rumble of thunder sounded overhead, Harry drank the vial.

For a moment nothing happened. Then Harry began to shrink.


	80. Transformation

The first thing Harry felt was the pain. Sirius hadn't warned him of that. His body was falling in on itself as his bones reconfigured into their new shape. His arms and legs were pulling in, his skull caused him immeasurable discomfort as it shrank, then elongated. Even his gums were re-forming around his new, thinner teeth. A moment later he was in darkness.

No pain now. 

Softness. 

Why? 

Clothes ... yes. 

He was in clothes. 

But they were too big now.

He was human ... but not now ...

Now he was animal.

The spell - no, potion - had worked. He was animal.

Harry. That's who he was. Important to remember that.

Harry Potter. Harry _James_ Potter.

James Potter, his father. Also animal human. He was a stag.

Harry wasn't a stag. Harry was too small.

Harry left the clothes. He was on the floor. Was he a rat?

Wormtail was a rat. Wormtail was a traitor.

No Harry wasn't a rat. He didn't have the legs of a rat.

He didn't have legs. Was he a slug?

No, moving too fast. A worm?

No, he had teeth.

His body wound across the shack.

Oh. He was a snake.

Of course he was.

He could speak to snakes, after all. It made sense.

Harry could slither away right now.

Leave Hogwarts. Not worry about Voldemort.

Voldemort couldn't find him if he was a snake.

No one could.

Not Voldemort. Not Lucius Malfoy.

Not the Dementors.

Not Ron. Not Hermione.

Not Neville. Not Draco.

Not Sirius. Not Remus.

Not Ginny.

No. He couldn't run. People needed him. He needed them.

Go back to Hogwarts. But not as snake.

As human.

As Harry.

Harry James Potter.

That's who he was.

Pain again!

Body exploding.

Arms. Legs.

As painfully as, yet, mercifully, as quickly as the first transformation, it was over. Harry was human again. He lay on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, naked, in the foetal position.

Slowly, steadily he got up and got dressed.

So, he was a snake.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about this. On the one hand he was elated the transformation had worked. He was now an Animagus. It wasn't as he'd expected, but a trick that Voldemort wasn't aware of.

But Harry hadn't expected to be a snake. He certainly wouldn't have chosen to be a snake. The snake was the symbol of Salazar Slytherin and everything that Voldemort stood for. But it made sense. Harry was a Parseltongue. He'd always had a connection to snakes.

From the Boa Constrictor he'd freed when he was ten and didn't know yet that he was a wizard. To the three headed snake he had befriended in the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and had helped him to get to the Cup before anyone else.

He had to tell Sirius. As soon as possible. He put his Invisibility Cloak back on and made his way back to the castle.

He finally reached Gryffindors Tower, removed his cloak, gave the Fat Lady the password and entered the common room.

The atmosphere was subdued.

'Where have you been?' Ginny asked as Harry joined her, Hermione and Neville by the fire.

'Er ... I had to do something.' Hermione looked at him with concern, Ginny looked with confusion. 'Where's Ron?' Harry said, not wanting to talk about his Animagus form just yet.

'He's gone to bed,' said Neville.

'Oh, did Angelina not make him Keeper? I thought she was going to,' Harry said.

'Oh, no,' said Ginny, 'he's on the team. It's just ... Filch gave all the try-outs a mass detention for dragging mud through the castle. And they were all docked ten points. Each. No one really wants to talk to them right now.'

'Ten points each?' Harry exclaimed. 'That's got to be ...'

'A hundred and ten points,' said Neville. 'We're bottom of the House Championship now.'

'We thought Filch had got you too,' said Ginny. 'But then you didn't come back with the others ...'

Harry looked around. It was only fair he trusted Ginny with his secret. And Neville was one of his best friends too.

'Wait up with me,' he said, leaning in. 'I'll tell you what I was doing.'

'It worked then?' Hermione said.

'Yeah,' said Harry. Hermione looked relieved.

'What worked?' asked Ginny.

'When everyone else is in bed,' Harry promised. 'Tell me what I missed at the Slug Club.'

'Well, we had a guest speaker,' said Ginny. 'Newt Scamander.'

'Seriously?' said Harry. 'The guy who wrote the Fantastic Beasts book?'

'That's the one,' Ginny confirmed.

'What was he doing here?'

'Well, apparently Professor Black went to school with his son,' Ginny said. 'I think Hermione enjoyed herself.'

Hermione furrowed her brow. Harry looked at her quizzically.

'She argued with a ninety eight year old National Treasure,' said Neville.

'I just thought I'd point out some of the hypocrisy in some of his comments, that's all,' she said.

'I thought you respected your elders,' Harry laughed.

'I do!' Hermione insisted. 'But, I just wanted him to explain his position on certain subjects. For example, why did he create the Werewolf registry? Was he proud of it's legacy? It's the reason people like Remus can't get work. And the Wizarding world doesn't offer any real compensation for the unemployed. Remus is lucky that Dumbledore doesn't care about that stuff, and that he has Sirius now.

'The point is,' she continued, 'that the registry is outdated and created at a time when Werewolves were considered Beasts and not Beings, therefore needs to be scrapped.'

'Talking of beings,' said Ginny, barely suppressing her grin, 'don't mention house-elves.'

Hermione threw her arms into the air.

'You have to admit I have a point!' she said. 'Here he is, saying how important it is that we care for magical creatures of all kinds, yet when he was in a position to help the house-elves he did nothing. And it's quite clear from his comments that he thinks of them as lesser. He seemed to care more about the welfare of his Kneazles than he did of the house-elves.'

'I sorry I missed it,' said Harry. 'It would have been fun seeing you argue with an old man!'

'Ha ha,' said Hermione. 'Laugh at the girl who thinks that people in positions of power should help those who need it the most.'

As they waited for their housemates to go to bed the four of them stayed up playing exploding snap. Eventually they were the only ones left in the common room.

Harry filled Ginny and Neville in on what he'd been doing all summer. From the Mandrake leaf to the incantation, and about Hermione figuring it all out. Finally he explained what had happened that very night at the Shrieking Shack, and the fact his Animagus form was a snake.

'And then I came straight back here,' he said.

There was a pause as everyone took in what he had told them. Then Ginny punched him on the arm.

'Ow!'

'That's for not telling me!' she said. 'I'm meant to be your girlfriend, you know!'

'Sorry,' Harry managed. It sounded rather pathetic, even he had to admit that.

'So you're a snake,' said Hermione slowly.

'At least you don't have to worry about Trevor eating you, eh?' said Ginny, playfully cuffing Neville on the shoulder.

'I figure it's something to do with me ability to speak Parseltongue,' Harry said to Hermione.

'Yeah, that'd make sense,' she said.

Harry yawned. With the adrenaline of his transformation he hadn't realised how tired he was.

'It's bedtime for me,' he said. 'And I'll be able to have a lie-in for once! Don't tell Ron. He doesn't know yet, and I want to tell him.'

The three of them promised they would keep quiet in front of Ron and they all said their goodnights. After giving Ginny a kiss goodnight, Harry followed Neville up to the boys dormitory. He collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep immediately, without changing out of his robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a new Extra coming on the 20th to celebrate six months of this fic. This one is much more closely related to the series, and a major Order of the Phoenix change in particular.


	81. Trust and Distrust

Despite his best efforts, Harry was still the first to wake up in his dormitory next morning. He lay for a moment watching dust swirl in the ray of sunlight coming through the gap in his four-posters hangings. Judging by the sleepy silence and the freshly minted look of that beam of sunlight, it was just after daybreak. He pulled open the curtains around his bed, got up and started to dress. The only sound apart from the distant twittering of birds was the slow deep breathing of his fellow Gryffindors. He opened his trunk carefully, pulled out two way mirror and headed out of the dormitory for the common room.

Making straight for his favourite squashy old armchair beside the now extinct fire, Harry settled himself down comfortably and unrolled his parchment while looking around the room. He wanted to tell Sirius that they had succeeded whilst he had some privacy, but would Sirius be awake? 

His godfather had said he'd always be there for Harry, but this wasn't exactly an emergency. If Sirius thought Harry was using the mirrors for anything and everything would he be inclined to keep using them in the future? But Sirius would want to know that Harry had transformed, and what he'd transformed into, Harry was sure of it.

'Sirius,' he said into the mirror. There was a pause then Harry's reflection disappeared and was replaced by darkness. Then Harry heard a fumbling from the other side, some footsteps, a door opening and closing. There was light now - Harry recognised the wallpaper of Nineteen Trompore Square.

Then Sirius's face filled the mirror, his long hair a mess, as if he'd just woken up.

'Harry, is everything all right?' he asked quietly so as not to wake any of the other occupants.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Sorry to wake you. I just wanted to let you know that it worked.'

Sirius looked confused for a moment, then he broke into one of his trademark grins.

'It worked? Fantastic!'

'You didn't warn me how much it would hurt,' Harry said.

'I'd forgotten about that,' said Sirius. 'The more you switch the easier it becomes. I don't feel a thing now. Your mind becomes more human as well. What are you anyway? If I were a betting man - which I have been known to be - I'd wager you're a stag like your dad.'

'No,' said Harry, 'not a stag.'

'Well some sort of bird then? Or a lion? That'd be pretty cool. Yes, a lion. You pulled Gryffindor's sword out of the sorting hat, after all. What else could you be but the symbol of Godric Gryffindor himself?'

Harry felt a pit in his stomach. How would Sirius react with the fact that Harry was in fact a symbol of Salazar Slytherin instead.

'Not a lion, no,' said Harry. 'I - I was a snake.'

Sirius's smile faded at the edges.

'A snake?' he said. 'Well, I didn't expect that.'

'Hermione thinks it's because I can speak Parseltongue,' Harry said.

'You told Hermione about it?' Sirius said, furrowing his brow.

'Well, she had worked out what I was doing, so it was only fair,' Harry explained.

'And I suppose Ron and Neville know too then,' Sirius said.

'Neville does, yeah,' Harry said, ' and Ginny. But I haven't had time to tell Ron or Draco yet.'

'Don't tell Draco,' Sirius said sharply. 'I'm sure the others you can trust, but remember Draco's still a Slytherin. And as much as my has brother convinced everyone else that they have reformed, like he apparently has too, we can't be too sure. I think someone's leaking information. Sturgis was caught doing Order work at the Ministry and they've put him in Azkaban.'

In the distance Harry heard a muffled voice calling for Sirius.

'Remus is up,' Sirius said. 'I've got to go. But remember, keep this quiet. We don't want Voldemort finding out about this.'

A moment later Sirius's face was replaced with Harry's own. 

Harry's first thought, as he went back to them boys' dormitory to pack his mirror away again, was that Sirius was disappointed. Disappointed that he wasn't a stag like his dad; disappointed that he was a snake. Harry's second thought was that no matter what Sirius thought, Draco couldn't be a traitor. There was no way.

But his dad had thought that about Wormtail. And if it wasn't Draco, Sirius was still convinced the Order had a leak. What if Narcissa and Professor Black weren't as innocent as they were pretending to be. And Draco trusted them both, so he might let slip that Harry was an Animagus, and if they were the leak, then Voldemort would know, and it was one of the major advantages Harry now had.

Harry decided to put those thoughts out of his mind for the time being and picked up the book Ginny had got him for his birthday, resolving to read a couple more chapters about Glynnis Griffiths before breakfast.

Eventually the common room came to life around him and Ginny came to join him by the fire.

'Enjoying it?' she asked as she sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around him.

'Yeah,' said Harry, giving her a kiss, 'I can see why she's one of your heroes.'

Soon Neville and Hermione joined the two of them by the common room fire as well, and it was just Ron they were waiting for.

'He was getting dressed when I came down,' said Neville. 'He's not going to be long.'

Sure enough, a minute later Ron came down.

'Alright?' he said. 'I'm starving.'

The five of them crawled through the portrait hole and made their way down to the Great Hall. Harry couldn't tell Ron about the previous night yet, there were too many people around.

Harry pulled platter of bacon and eggs towards him and looked across at the Slytherin table. There was Draco, sat at the end as usual, far from the rest of his housemates.

'Listen,' said Ron putting down the piece of toast he was eatng and taking a large swig of pumpkin juice, 'you don't fancy going down to the Quidditch pitch later, do you? Just to give me some practice before training? So I can, you know, get my eye in a bit.'

'Yeah, of course,' said Harry. That would give them opportunity to talk.

'Don't you have detention today, Ron?' Hermione said.

Ron sank in his seat.

'Oh yeah,' he said. 'But that's not until tonight, so we've got time between now and dinner. It's not even fair, none of us were even that muddy!'

'Do you know what you've got to do yet?' Harry asked with a slight pang of guilt. It was his fault Ron had detention after all. It was his trail of mud that had upset Filch so much.

'Not yet, no,' said Ron. 'We have to report to Filch's office.'

As Ron gloomily picked his toast up again the morning post arrived. As usual, the Daily Prophet was soaring towards Hermione in the beak of a screech owl, which landed perilously close to the sugar bowl and held out a leg. Hermione pushed a Knut into its leather pouch took the newspaper, and scanned the front page critically as the owl took off again.

'Anything interesting?' said Neville.

'No,' she sighed, 'just some guff about the bass player in the Weird Sisters getting married.'

Hermione opened the paper and disappeared behind it. Harry devoted himself to another helping of eggs and bacon. Ron was staring up at the high windows, looking slightly preoccupied. 

'Wait a moment,' said Hermione suddenly. 'Listen to this: Trespass at Ministry,' she read. 'Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham has appeared in front of the Wizengamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31 August Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watchwizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top- security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defence, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban.'

So this was what Sirius had been referencing this morning when they had spoken.

'Sturgis Podmore?' said Ron slowly. He's that bloke who looks like his head's been thatched, isn't he? He's one of the Ord-'

'Ron, shh!' said Hermione, casting a terrified look around them.

'Six months in Azkaban!' whispered Harry, shocked. 'Just for trying to get through a door!'

'Don't be silly, it wasn't just for trying to get through a door. What on earth was he doing at the Ministry of Magic at one o'clock in the morning?' breathed Hermione. 

'He was doing something for the Order, according to Sirius,' Harry said. 'I spoke to him this morning,' he added as everyone looked at him. 'He thinks there's an informer in the Order. Someone who's leading information. Someone knew Sturgis was going to be there that night and tipped the Ministry off.'

'Who would do that?' asked Neville.

Harry kept quiet about Sirius's theory. Thinking back to when he had seen Lucius Malfoy over the summer, Harry couldn't believe that Narcissa hadn't really left him. And Professor Black had proved himself an ally time and time again. Until he had more evidence he was going to keep quiet.

*

That afternoon, after writing an essay on self fertilising shrubs, Harry, Ron and Ginny went down to the Quidditch pitch. Draco, who had made the Slytherin team again (after Professor Black had apparently pressured Montague into the reappointment), joined them.

'I've got to tell you something,' said Harry to Ron and Draco once they were away from the castle. 'But I need you to both promise that you won't tell anyone else.'

Harry had decided that as much as he appreciated his godfather's advice, he had decided after breakfast that Draco had proven that he could be trusted. Both Ron and Draco swore that they would keep the secret to themselves, so Harry told them everything he had told the others last night and what they and Sirius had thought about the fact he was a snake.

'I'd have told you last night, too,' Harry reassured Ron, 'but you were ... y'know ...'

'Yeah, I get it,' Ron said. 'An Animagus? That's pretty cool. But a snake? I think Hermione's probably right though, mate. We all know you're a true Gryffindor, so I wouldn't worry about it. Not that there's anything wrong with being a Slytherin,' he added hastily for Draco's sake.

'I don't know about that,' Draco said dryly.

As much as everyone else had already said the, coming from Ron meant a lot more to Harry, and as they changed he felt a lot more reassured.

They collected a spare broom for Ron and Ginny, and some balls from the cupboard in the changing room and set to work Ron guarding the three tall goalposts, Harry, Ginny and Draco playing Chaser and trying to get the Quaffle past Ron. Harry though Ron was pretty good; he blocked almost three-quarters of the goals they attempted to put past him and played better the longer they practised. After a couple of hours they returned to the castle for dinner, Ginny bragging that she had scored the most goals. After dinner Ron left them to face whatever task Filch had planned for him.

*

'He made us polish the flagstones in the Entrance Hall,' Ron moaned to Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny as he returned to the Gryffindor common room that evening, close to midnight. 'And we couldn't use magic!'

He leaned in as everyone else who had had detention traipsed through the common room to their dormitories. 'Hopper would not stop moaning all night,' he said darkly, rubbing his temples. 'And somehow the North found out and him, Crabbe and Goyle kept coming through and making a mess! Not the Filch saw them of course. Doubt he'd have cared if he had, sadistic git.'

*

They spent the whole of Sunday in the common room, buried in their books while the room around them filled up, then emptoed. It was another clear, fine day and most of their fellow Gryffindors spent the day out in the grounds, enjoying what might well be some of the last sunshine that year. By the evening, Harry felt as though somebody had been beating his brain against the inside of his skull. His homework was all done for the week, but this was what they had been given ontheir first week back, he dreaded to think what awaited them the closer they got to the OWLs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that a new Extra will be published on the 20th... It's the first I wrote, which led to the bonus chapters because it was an aspect that I wanted to explore but couldn't within the main story as it was irrelevant to Harry.


	82. The Defense Club

'You're kidding me!' Hermione exclaimed at breakfast on Monday morning as she unfolded her Daily Prophet.

'Whazzit?' asked Ron, his mouth stuffed with a hash brown.

Hermione gave him a disapproving look as she flicked a piece of sprayed breakfast back towards him. She read the front page frantically before laying it out on the table for the others to see.

_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE OR AMELIA BONES: WHO IS THE REAL MINISTER OF MAGIC?_

'They're joking right?' said Ron.

Hermione took the paper back and read aloud.

_'Over the summer former Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was unceremoniously deposed from the role and replaced by Amelia Bones. Sources from inside the Ministry of Magic itself now claim that there may be more to this sudden backstabbing than first meets the eye._

_'According to our sources, the Wizengamot's unanimous decision may not have been so unanimous were it not for the interfering of Albus Dumbledore, current headmaster of Hogwarts school._

_'Many readers will remember that when Millicent Bagnold retired from the role five years ago Professor Dumbledore was top of the list for many as her replacement. Dumbledore turned the role down saying that he "would rather focus on nurturing new witches and wizards to fulfil their potential" and that he wished "whomever replaces the excellent Madame Bagnold, the very best of luck" and that he would be "more than happy to extend a helping hand whenever the new Minister should require one."_

_'It seems that Professor Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge enjoyed a close working relationship in the early days of the latter's leadership. However, over the last year and a half Mr Fudge became more difficult for Professor Dumbledore to control. As such Professor Dumbledore worked behind the scenes to plot Mr Fudge's downfall. There are even - so far unsubstantiated - rumours that Imperious Curses were performed by allies of the headmaster, if not the man himself._

'Are they seriously accusing Dumbledore of using an Unforgivable Curse?' asked Ginny incredulously.

'Wait, there's more,' said Hermione grimly.

_'"Dumbledore forced Fudge's hand on a number of issues," one source revealed. "The Sirius Black case for example. There was never any concrete proof that he was in fact innocent of the crimes he was committed for. And this summer he is performing magic in front of Muggles once more, and getting away without any repercussions."_

_Another source raised concern over the Ministry's blind faith in Professor Dumbledore's assertion that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned._

_But most concerning is that Madame Bones, on apparent orders from Professor Dumbledore himself, has relieved the Dementors of their Azkaban duties. Two criminals already escaped whilst they guarded the prison and protected wizards and Muggles alike. How many more dangerous witches and wizards will return to wreak havoc._

_This development begs the question, how many friends other than Sirius Black does Professor Dumbledore have inside? Many readers will recall Professor Dumbledore's penchant for helping out those with shady pasts._

_He stood up for and remained good friends with former student Newt Scamander who was expelled from Hogwarts in his sixth year after experiments with a Jarvey. Another former student who was expelled, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, was allowed to remain at Hogwarts as groundskeeper, before becoming a full time teacher two years ago, after he himself spent time in Azkaban. He even lead the Wizengamot to declaring his own brother, Aberforth, innocent after the infamous goat-sharming incident._

_For how long has Professor Dumbledore been pulling strings at the Ministry? Is Madame Bones merely a puppet to be tossed aside as her predecessor once she no longer has any use, or begins to stand against Professor Dumbledore? Only time will tell._

Hermione finished reading and looked at the others.

'Someone's clearly trying to discredit Dumbledore,' said Neville. 'Who do you think those sources are?'

'I'd put money on one of them being Lucius Malfoy,' said Harry bitterly. 'He tried to get rid of Dumbledore three years ago. What's the betting Voldemort's put him up to it?

'Harry's got a point,' said Hermione. 'Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of and the one person wizards will rally behind. It makes perfect sense to vilify him.'

Harry found it harder than usual to concentrate in Professor Binns's class that morning. His mind was too distracted thinking of who else might be trying to discredit Dumbledore.

Perhaps Fudge himself had spoken to the Daily Prophet, bitter about his sacking earlier in the summer. Or maybe it was that Umbridge woman who had sat in on Harry's trial. Sirius had mentioned her being present at his trial the previous year, and her being against him from the beginning. Or maybe this had something to do with the Order member who was potentially leaking information to Voldemort.

They didn't have much time to discuss the with Draco during potions as Black had them working in test conditions again. Concentrating hard Harry read and re-read every instruction three times over, hoping not to repeat his previous week's mistake. 

After lunch they Professor Trelawney once again predicted Harry's death, even when interpreting his dream about eating porridge.

During Kingsley's class the desks were once again pushed against the wall.

'Today class,' he began once everyone was gathered in front of him, 'we will start looking at counter-jinxes. In his book, Defensive Magical Theory, Wilbert Slinkhard states that counter-jinxes are improperly named. Counter-jinx is the name people give to their jinxes when they want them to sound more acceptable. Does anyone have any thoughts on this?'

Hermione looked thoughtful as she raised her hand.

'Yes, Hermione, what do you think?' Kingsley asked.

'Well, Professor S,' Hermione said, 'I would say that's not right at all. A counter-jinx reverses the effects of a jinx, therefore cannot be cast until a jinx has been, surely.'

'Very good,' Kingsley beamed, 'I quite agree. Five points to Gryffindor. Counter-jinxes are pure and simple defense, no matter what Slinkhard might try to suggest. Whilst I believe that Mr Slinkhard has some very noble views on pacifism, we cannot deny the world we live in. There are those who wish to harm others, and the best thing we can do is prepare ourselves against these people.'

There was silence in the classroom as everyone listened intently to Kingsley's words. Like Moody, Kingsley did not sugarcoat the fact that the world outside Hogwarts was a dangerous place, however he was certainly less paranoid and pessimistic than Moody ever was. And not once had he barked 'constant vigilance' as Moody so often did.

'Today we'll look at the Impediment Curse,' Kingsley continued. 'Does anyone know what the effects of the Impediment Curse are?'

A few hands were raised.

'Yes, Dean,' said Kingsley.

'It impedes you, Professor S,' Dean said. A few of Harry's classmates laughed, as did Kinglsey.

'That's true, but can you be more specific?' he asked.

'I think it slows you down,' Dean said.

'Perfect! Five points for Gryffindor. Of course, as with any jinx, the amount it slows you down by and how long the effects last for depend on how powerfully the jinx is cast. Does anybody know the spell? Lavender?'

'Impedimenta, Professor.'

'Very good, Lavender, five more points for Gryffindor. Could I have a volunteer for a little demonstration here? How about you Seamus?'

Seamus grinned, excited to be able to help. Kingsley instructed him to go to the far end of the classroom then to turn and run full pelt. Seamus did this, but before he could get halfway back Kingsley had flicked his wand towards him and lazily said ' _Impedimenta_ ,' and Seamus was still discernably running, but at what seemed to be half speed. A second later he sped up again and ran the rest of the length of the classroom.

'That was so weird!' said Seamus. 'I felt myself slow down. It was like I was running through treacle or something!'

Kinglsey laughed and asked Seamus to do the same again. This time when he cast the spell Kingsley bellowed the jinx and made a strong movement with his wand. Seamus slowed to almost a stop this time, yet it was clear he was still running.

'Who knows the counter-jinx?' Kinglsey asked the class as Seamus's left foot lifted from the floor.

'Facilitato?' offered Pavarti.

'Very good,' said Kingsley, 'another five points to Gryffindor. Neville, why don't you give it a go? Try and see if you can help Seamus out.'

Nervously Neville stood in front of Seamus and pointed his wand at him.

'F-facilitato,' he said feebly.

'Come on now, Neville,' Kingsley said. I know you've got it in you. You've got to match my intensity if you want to end the jinx.'

'Facilitato,' Neville said again. 'Facilitato! Facilitator!'

Seamus looked to be moving a little quicker, but he was nowhere near even a quarter of his normal speed.

'Come on, Neville,' said Kingsley, 'nice and confident now. Says it like you want to help Seamus.'

' _FASCILITATO!_ ' Neville cried.

As the counter-jinx hit Seamus he sped back up to his true speed and collided with Neville, causing them both to fall to the floor.

'Well done, Neville!' laughed Kingsley as Neville and Seamus untangled themselves from each other. 'Next time maybe don't stand in front of him though. Ten points for Gryffindor. Now I'd like you to partner up. One of you ejll cast the Impediment jinx on the other then the counter-jinx, then you'll swap over. Then we'll see how you do countering your classmates' jinxes.'

At the end of another exciting practical lesson Kinglsey offered some more exciting news.

'From October, Professor Black and I are teaming up to offer an after class Defense Club. Please sign the notice in the Entrance Hall to show your interest.'

*

It turned out that most of the school was interested in further defense lessons from Professor S - though there was a distinct lack of Slytherin's who had signed up, and Kingsley had limited it to third years and above.

The demand was so great that Kinglsey had split to club into a Beginner's session on Mondays, an Intermediate session on Tuesdays and an Advanced session on Wednesdays, which Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Draco found themselves in, amongst mostly sixth and seventh year students. 

The club was taking place in the Great Hall, the dining tables had been pushed aside, much like the desks in Kingsley's regular classes.

'This term,' Kingsley said at their first meeting as he stood next to Professor Black, 'we are going to begin with a charm that I know one of you had already mastered, but I'm hoping that they'll be able to help you grasp. It's a very advanced spell, so don't worry if you don't succeed, especially not on this first day, but this is the advanced club, so I have no doubt that number of you will be able to master it by Christmas.'

There was excited chattering as everyone tried to figure out what the spell they might be learning could be.

'This spell is incredibly useful. It protects and shields as well as being able to relay messages across great distance. The spell when cast powerfully enough will take on a form unique to the caster.'

By this point Harry realised that he was the person whom Kingsley had referred to at the start. Clearly he was going to teach them how to cast a Patronus.

As if he knew what Harry was thinking Kingsley said, ' _Expecto Patronum!_ ' and a silvery shape shot from his wand. It was a lynx and it danced around the students who exclaimed in awe.

'As Professor Shacklebolt said,' said Professor Black, at once tearing everyone's attention away from the lynx Patronus, 'every Patronus is unique.'

He pulled out his wand.

' _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ' he cried and a silver jet shot from his wand as it had from Kingsley's. This time a Lion ran around the Great Hall settling next to the lynx. Both Patronuses bowed to one another, before running around once more then dissipating as they raced around the room.

'The key to a successful Patronus is to think of your happiest thoughts,' said Kingsley. 'Bring as much joy to the front of your mind as you possibly can. It will take practice, I don't expect you to cast a fully corporeal Patronus this evening. I'm going to let you get to work, and Professor Black and I will walk amongst you to point you in the right direction.'

'Brilliant!' said Ginny. 'I can't wait to see what I get!'

'If you can cast it,' said Neville. 'It's pretty difficult.'

'That's alright, Nev,' said Ron, 'we've got Harry to help us out. We'll have this mastered in no time!'

Harry appreciated Ron's confidence in him, but it had taken Remus weeks to teach him how to cast a Patronus and that was one on one. He hadn't been able to perform his own corporeal Patronus for months after that.

By the time the club ended for the night only a few people had managed produced to produce even a silvery wisp from the ends of their wands, among them were Hermione, Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. Draco seemed to have found it particularly difficult.

'You just need to find the right happy memory,' Harry encouraged. 'It took me a while too.'

'I think that's going to be a struggle,' Draco said sadly as he descended the stairs to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room.

Ron on the other hand was telling everyone who would listen about the sparks he had created.

'It's a wisp you're looking for, not sparks,' laughed Fred, causing Ron's ears to turn red.


	83. Hogsmeade

With two Quidditch practices a week, and Defense Club on Wednesdays Harry and Ron were struggling to keep up with their homework demands, and Neville was only faring slightly better.

But the first weekend of October brought the first Hogsmeade trip of the year and Harry his unfinished Herbology essay out of his mind as he trudged across the castle grounds with his friends to the nearby village. Sirius was making his way up from London to see them and Harry hoped to have a chance to talk about what the Order was up to, what had happened to Sturgis and the Daily Prophet's attacks on Dumbledore.

There had been two more articles in September (though neither front page) which seemed to infer that Dumbledore was hiding a shady past.

Neville left Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Draco as they entered the Three Broomsticks and he went to meet Hannah Abbott. Sirius was already inside, sat at a corner table with six bottles of Butterbeer waiting.

The five schoolfriends squeezed their way across the crowded pub and shuffled into the booth with Sirius.

'Hello, you lot,' he grinned as they made themselves comfortable. 'How's school going? They working you hard up there?'

After they murmured that school was fine, and yes, the teachers were working them hard, Hermione looked around the pub nervously and said, in a quiet voice, 'Sirius, if we're going to talk about the you-know-what, is this really the best place? Would The Hog's Head not have been better? There'd be less people there to overhear us.'

'Yes, but a lot easier to overhear,' said Sirius. 'And you can get some real sketchy characters in there, so who knows who might be listening, and who they might go on the tell?'

As Sirius said this Harry noticed his eyes flick very quickly towards Draco, before returning to Hermione.

'So what's going on with Sturgis?' Harry asked before Sirius could accuse Draco of anything.

'Huh? Oh, Sturgis, yes ... I don't know much more than when I spoke to you last,' said Sirius. He's in Azkaban now. On the plus side he's only there for six months and at least there's no Dementors there anymore. Tonks is trying to get a guard post there to arrange contact and find out what actually happened, but Scrimgeour keeps telling her she's too useful in the field. She can't push it too much or it'll look suspicious.'

'Does the Order have any idea of who the sources might be that are trying to discredit Dumbledore?' asked Hermione. 'We thought maybe Fudge was bitter at his deposal.'

'Not a bad idea,' said Sirius, 'but your guess is as good as any. Unfortunately, when you've lived as long as Dumbledore has, and done so many great things, you're sure to ruffle a few feathers ...'

'Any news on You-Know-Who?' asked Ron. 'There's nothing in the Prophet that stands out.'

Hermione rolled her eyes at this. Ron never read the Daily Prophet unless Hermione pointed an article out to them.

'We've got nothing concrete there. He's lying low still. The general consensus is that he seems to be searching for something - or rather sending his lackeys out to find it, but no one's too sure what. Or if they do, they don't trust me with the information.'

Harry thought he sensed a touch of annoyance in Sirius's comment. Was he being kept out of Order meetings?

'I've applied for a job by the way,' Sirius said more brightly now. 'Keep me busy, and hopefully able to help the Order a little more.'

'Oh, yeah?' said Harry, intrigued. 'What's that then?'

'Oh, I can't tell you just yet, but I'll let you know how it goes. I just wanted to tell you now, because it might mean this is the last time I can come and see you for a while.'

As they all finished their Butterbeers they tried to coax out of Sirius the job he had applied for, but he wasn't going to let them know today. When they began to leave the Three Broomsticks, Sirius kept Harry behind.

'Can we walk off on our own for a while?' he asked seriously. 'I want to talk to you about some Animagus stuff. I know somewhere we can go so you can show me.'

'Can't the others join us?' Harry asked. 'They all know, and it'd be nice to show them.'

Sirius was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to chose his next words carefully.

'What about Draco? Won't he wonder why you're all deserting him?'

'The thing is ...' Harry began. He had been wondering when this would come up. 'The thing is, he knows too. I had to tell him, he is my friend.'

Sirius sighed.

'I told you not to,' he snapped at Harry. 'Your father and I made the mistake of trusting someone we had thought of as a friend, and he and your mother died for it.'

Harry felt a pit in his stomach. Sirius had never shouted at him before, had never been angry with him. And he rarely spoke about his parents deaths.

'Look, if you don't want Draco there, then don't worry about it,' Harry said testily. 'I know what Wormtail did, I've had to live with the Dursleys for fourteen years because of it. But I trust Draco and he's my friend. But if I didn't include him in things like this, then I don't think he would be. We've got homework to do anyway, so it's probably better if we just go back to the castle.'

Harry stormed out of the Three Broomsticks and into cold October afternoon.

'Let's go!' he said to his friends, marching back down the path to Hogwarts, tears in his eyes.

He was angry that Sirius didn't trust Draco. He was angry that they had had an argument. And he was angry that Sirius might be right. Maybe Harry couldn't trust Draco. Maybe this was all a ploy to betray him when the time was right. But what if it was another of his friends Harry couldn't trust? Neville hadn't joined them at the Three Broomsticks just now, was he really with Hannah? Maybe Ron would finally have enough of all the attention Harry got and betray him. They'd fallen out last year over a similar situation.

As he advanced down the High Street, Ginny caught up with him.

'Hey, hey, what's wrong?' she asked. 'What happened in there with you and Sirius?'

'Nothing,' Harry snapped. 'Doesn't matter.'

'Clearly it does matter or you wouldn't be storming off like this,' Ginny said. She reached for his hand, but he pulled it away.

'It's going to be like that is it?' she asked in a voice that reminded Harry of her mother. 'I've not done anything to upset you, have I? So I don't know why you're trying to push me away. I'm only trying to be there for you and help you whilst you're upset.'

Harry slowed down and took a breath.

'I know ... I know ...' he said, trying to bring his emotions under control. 'I'm sorry ... me and Sirius had a fight, that's all.'

'Well, I guessed that,' Ginny said. 'What did he say, why'd you get so upset.'

'It was nothing really, it's just the first time we've argued about something.' 

Harry's head felt hot, despite the autumn chill. He could feel the tears on his cheeks. Ginny gave him a tissue and he wiped his eyes then blew his nose. She kissed his cheek and squeezed the hand that wasn't holding the wet tissue.

'Feeling better?' she asked. Harry nodded. 'Do you want to go back and see Sirius or keep going to the castle?'

Harry thought about it, but couldn't bare to see his godfather right now. Perhaps they would apologise and everything would be OK, but right now, for the first time in his life, Harry just wanted some distance from Sirius, so he and Harry continued out of Hogsmeade.

*

'Feeling better?' Ron asked after he and Hermione clambered through the portrait hole, later that afternoon.

Harry had just finished a report for Professor Grubbly-Plank. He put down his quill and looked up at his friends. Ginny was curled by the fire reading a book.

'Yeah,' he said, 'sorry about that. How's Sirius?'

'He's fine,' said Hermione as she sat down. 'He wanted us to tell you he's sorry he upset you, and that he trusts your judgement. I assume you know what he means by that.'

Harry nodded as Hermione picked up his report. Harry smiled to himself. He knew that Hermione wouldn't pry about the argument and as far as she was concerned the matter was dealt with.

'I can't believe you came back to do homework!' Ron said. 'Now I've got to finish mine on my own! Besides you missed Honeydukes and Zonkos, look at this bargain I picked up.'

He put his hand into his robes and pulled out some dungbombs.

'Ten for a Sickle,' he said. 'I'm going to try and get Draco to plant them in Crabbe and Goyle's bed. Mind you, do you reckon anyone will tell the difference?'

'Ron! You can't ask Draco to do that!' said Hermione. 'I simply won't allow it.'

'She's got a good point, Ron,' said Ginny. 'Everyone will know that it's him. You've got to get the password off him and do it when he's in class.'

'Ginny!' said Hermione as Harry and Ron laughed. 'I thought you were the well behaved Weasley. Obviously I was wrong.'

'You clearly forget who my role models growing up were,' Ginny said, nodding to Fred and George who were showing off their Skiving Snackboxes to a group of first and second years.


	84. The Wager

After breakfast the morning after his argument with Sirius, Harry made his way to the owlery with a letter of apology he had written the night before. It was only a short one, but as Sirius had sent his own apologies back with Ron and Hermione, Harry felt it right that they should put the argument to rest. If there was anyone Harry wanted on his side it was his godfather.

He watched Hedwig fly into the distance then made his way down to the lake to enjoy the last burst of Autumn sunshine. Ginny was sitting on the edge of the lake, her feet splashing in the waters and Ron sat with Hermione and Neville in the shade of a large beech tree as they helped him finish his homework for the week. This meant Harry and Draco had time to talk properly for the first time since term began.

'Sirius doesn't like me, does he?' Draco said as they took a walk along the edge of the lake.

'I think he has a hard time trusting any Slytherin's,' Harry said diplomatically.

Draco barked a dismissive laugh, then said, 'I think he sees too much of my father in me.'

'He's coming round to the idea of you being a friend,' Harry said. 'He'll get there. Look at how long it took Ron.'

Draco laughed again, though this time in agreement. 'That's very true,' he said.

'How's life in the Slytherin common room?' Harry asked, eager to make away from Sirius's prejudices.

'Surprisingly, not awful,' said Draco. 'For the most part people just ignore me. Obviously Theo and his gang make comments from time to time, but I can deal with that. They daren't do anything more in fear of Professor Black. And Quidditch has been fine too. As long as I get on with Seeking then the rest of the team has nothing to say to me. Even Crabbe and Goyle leave me alone for the most part.'

'So I don't need to throw the match next month?' Harry said.

'Not when I can beat you anyway,' said Draco. 'How's Ron's Keeping coming along?'

'It's ... coming along,' said Harry. The truth was that Ron had good days and bad days, though he was having more of the former the more practices they had. Harry would be lying if he didn't say that he was concerned how Ron might fare when faced with the crowds that Quidditch Matches brought.

Harry had noticed two figures walking towards himself and Draco. As they now got closer he could see it was their fellow Seekers, Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. For a time Harry had had a crush on Cho. He had even asked her to attend the Yule Ball with him, but Cedric had asked her first, meaning Harry had gone with Ginny instead. That was the night they had shared their first kiss. Looking at how happy Cedric and Cho were as they walked along the edge of the lake, Harry couldn't help but think it had worked out best for everyone.

'Hiya, Harry!' Cho said as they reached each other.

'Hi, Cho, Cedric,' said Harry.

'How funny bumping into you two,' said Cedric. 'Cho and I were just talking about everyone's chances in the Cup this year. Care to join us in a wager? Five Galleons each to whoever's team wins?'

'Yeah, sure, why not?' said Harry.

As nervous as he was about Ron's ability as a Keeper, he was the only change to the Gryffindor Team since they had been crowned Champions at the end of the previous Quidditch Season. As Seekers Cedric, Cho and Draco posed challenges, but as Angelina, Alicia and Katie posed the tightest Chaser unit at Hogwarts. They had been playing together for years and the other three teams had all replaced at least one of their Chasers this year. As for Beaters, Slytherin definitely had the other teams beat on brute strength, but the Weasley twins had an agility and accuracy not found elsewhere.

Harry shook Cedric's hand first, and then Cho's, sealing the deal.

'Malfoy?' Cedric asked, extending his hand to Draco.

Draco paused for a moment, then said, 'Sure,' and shook everyone's hand.

*

Things were looking brighter for Harry Tuesday morning at breakfast when Ron received a package.

 _You can't beat Slytherin on a Cleansweep Seven_ read the note that came with it. 

Ron ripped open the package and found himself staring at a brand new Firebolt, just like the broom Harry owned.

'Wow!' said Ron, his mouth open in shock. 'You don't think McGonagall -'

'No,' said Harry. 'That note is in Sirius's writing.'

Throughout the day Harry was almost as excited to see Ron flying his Firebolt as Ron was to be flying it. That night at practice, the rest of the team looked at his new broom in awe.

'Have a word with Sirius, Harry,' said Fred as they left the changing rooms in their Quidditch robes, 'see if he'll shell out for the rest of us!'

The Firebolt had done wonders for Ron's confidence; Harry had never seen him fly better. He was dodging Bludgers with ease, intercepting the Quaffle with style and not once did he overshoot a goal hoops as he had some a number of times on the old Cleansweep. In total he had only let the team white against him twice in the hour and a half long training session. Angelina was estatic.

As October wore on the weather changed for the worse. When Harry and Ron went down to the Quidditch pitch for practice the week before Hallowe'en, they were soaked through within minutes, their feet slipping and sliding on the sodden grass. The sky was a deep, thundery grey and it was a relief to gain the warmth and light of the changing rooms, even if they knew the respite was only temporary. They found Fred and George debating using one of their own Skiving Snackboxes to get out of flying.

'... but I bet she'd know what we'd done,' Fred said out of the corner of his mouth. 'If only I hadn't offered to sell her some Puking Pastilles yesterday.'

'We could try the Fever Fudge,' George muttered, 'no one's seen that yet -'

'Does it work?' enquired Ron hopefully, as the hammering, of rain on the roof intensified and wind howled around the building. 

'Well, yeah,' said Fred, 'your temperature'll go right up.'

'But you get these massive pus-filled boils, too,' said George, 'Sirius is looking at how to get rid of them, but none of us have an answer yet.'

'I can't see any boils,' said Ron, staring at the twins.

'No, well, you wouldn't,' said Fred darkly, 'they're not in a place we generally display to the public.'

'But they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the -'

'All right, everyone, listen up,' said Angelina loudly, emerging from the Captain's office. 'I know it's not ideal weather, but there's a chance we'll be playing Slytherin in conditions like this so it's a good idea to work out how we're going to cope with them. Harry didn't you do something to your glasses to stop the rain fogging them up when we played them in that storm last time?'

'Hermione did it,' said Harry. He pulled out his wand, tapped his glasses and said, 'Impervius!'

'I think we all ought to try that,' said Angelina. 'If we could just keep the rain off our faces it would really help visibility - all together, come on - Impervius! OK. Let's go.'

They all stowed their wands back in the inside pockets of their robes, shouldered their brooms and followed Angelina out of the changing rooms They squelched through the deepening mud to the middle of the pitch; visibility was still very poor even with the Impervius Charm; light was fading fast and curtains of rain were sweeping the grounds.

'All right, on my whistle,' shouted Angelina. Harry kicked off from the ground, spraying mud in all directions, and shot upwards, the wind pulling him slightly off course.

He had no idea how he was going to see the Snitch in this weather; he was having enough difficulty seeing the one Bludger with which they were practising; a minute into the practice it almost unseated him and he had to use the Sloth Grip Roll to avoid it. Unfortunately, Angelina did not see this. In fact, she did not appear to be able to see anything, none of them had a clue what the others were doing The wind was picking up even at a distance Harry could hear the swishing, pounding sounds of the rain pummelling the surface of the lake.

Angelina kept them at it for nearly an hour before conceding defeat. She led her sodden and disgruntled team back into the changing rooms, insisting that the practice had not been a waste of time, though without any real conviction in her voice, Fred and George were looking particularly annoyed, both were bandy-legged and winced with every movement. Harry could hear them complaining in low voices as he towelled his hair dry. 

'I think a few of mine have ruptured,' said Fred in a hollow voice. 

'Mine haven't,' said George, through clenched teeth, 'they're throbbing like mad ... feel bigger if anything.'

'OUCH!' said Harry

He pressed the towel to his face, his eyes screwed tight with pain. The scar on his forehead had seared again, more painfully than it had in weeks. 

'What's up?' said several voices.

Harry emerged from behind his towel; the changing room was blurred because he was not wearing his glasses, but he could still tell that everyone's face was turned towards him.

'Nothing,' he muttered, 'I - poked myself in the eye, that's all.'

But he gave Ron a significant look and the two of them hung back as the rest of the team filed back outside, muffled in their cloaks, their hats pulled low over their ears.

'What happened?' said Ron, the moment Alicia had disappeared through the door. 'Was it your scar?'

Harry nodded.

'But ...' looking scared, Ron strode across to the window and stared out into the rain, 'he - he can't be near us now, can he?'

'No,' Harry muttered, sinking into a bench and rubbing his forehead. 'He's probably miles away It hurt because ... he's ... angry.' 

Harry hadn't meant to say that at all, and heard the word as though a stranger had spoken them - yet knew at once that they were true. He did not know how he knew it, but he did: Voldemort, wherever he was, whatever he was doing, was in a towering temper.

'Did you see him?' said Ron, looking horrified. 'Did you get a vision, or something?'

Harry sat quite still, staring at his feet, allowing his mind and his memory to relax in the aftermath of the pain. A confused tangle of shapes, a howling rush of voices.

'He wants something done, and it's not happening fast enough,' he said.

Again, he felt surprised to hear the words coming out of his mouth, and yet was quite certain they were true.

'But ... how do you know?' said Ron.

Harry shook his head and covered his eyes with his hands, pressing down upon them with his palms. Little stars erupted in them. He felt Ron sit down on the bench beside him and knew Ron was staring at him.

'You've got to tell someone,' said Ron.

'Yeah ...' said Harry. 'I'll talk to Sirius tonight.'

Harry got to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg and swinging it around him. Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully.

'Dumbledore'd want to know, too,' he said.

'Dumbledore already knows, said Harry. 'He said something like this was happening last year. He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. No point in bothering him again.'

'C'mon ... we've still got Silencing Charms to practise.'

They hurried back through the dark grounds, sliding and stumbling up the muddy lawns, not talking. Harry was thinking hard. What was it that Voldemort wanted done that was not happening quickly enough? 

_'... he's got other plans plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed ... stuff he can only get by stealth ... like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time.'_

Harry had not thought about those words in weeks; he had been too absorbed in what was going on at Hogwarts, but now they came back to him and made him wonder ... Voldemort's anger would make sense if he was no nearer to laying hands on the weapon, whatever it was. Had he Order thwarted him, stopped him from seizing it? Where was it kept? Who had it now?

'Mimbulus mimbletonia,' said Ron's voice and Harry came back to his senses just in time to clamber through the portrait hole into the common room.

It appeared that Hermione had gone to bed early, leaving Crookshanks curled in a nearby chair. Harry was rather grateful that she was not around, because he did not much want to discuss his scar hurting and have her urge him to go to Dumbledore, too. Ron kept throwing him anxious glances, but Harry pulled out his Charms books and set to work on finishing his essay, though he was only pretending to concentrate and by the time Ron said he was going up to bed, too, he had written hardly anything. 

Harry followed him up to the boy's dormitory and pulled out the mirror Sirius had given him. Returning to the common room for some privacy he called for his godfather.

'Hello, Harry,' said Sirius tentatively. Harry could see the kitchen if Nineteen Trompore Square behind him. 'Everything OK?'

'Err ... yeah, fine ...'

Harry instantly regretted reaching out to Sirius. They hadn't spoken to one another since their argument at the start of the month, except for the letters they had sent to apologise. But seeing his godfather face to face brought back the memories of that last meeting.

The silence seemed to last for hours until the both blurted out 'I'm sorry,' at the same time.

Sirius laughed, and beamed a big grin. Harry felt the weight of worry lift from his shoulders.

'No, no, you don't need to be sorry,' said Sirius. 'I should trust your judgement more. I'm just a paranoid old man. I suppose after what happened with Wormtail ... well, look ... if you trust Draco, then that's good enough for me ...'

'I'm sorry for getting so angry,' said Harry.

'No, no, we'll talk no more about it, OK? Now, why did you contact me? Has something happened?'

'My scar hurt again,' Harry said. 'After Quidditch practice. Voldemort's angry. He's not finding what he's searching for quickly enough.'

Sirius's face turned stony serious as he took in Harry's words.

'How's your head now?' he asked.

'Fine,' Harry said. The pain had subsided by the time he had gotten to the Castle.

'Have you told Dumbledore?'

Harry should have seen this coming.

'No.'

'Well you need to, I want you to talk to him first chance you get tomorrow.'

'I think it was to do with this weapon he's after,' Harry said, moving past talk of Dumbledore.

'Hmm ... yes ... maybe ... all the more reason to talk to Dumbledore.'

'Sirius is that you, m'boy?' came a voice from the other side of the mirror. Sirius looked up and smiled.

'Hello, Uncle Alphard. I'm just talking to Harry.'

'Harry?' Uncle Alphard's ghostly visage filled the mirror as Sirius dodged out of his way. Of course Uncle Alphard would have gone straight through Sirius, but Harry knew from experience the icy coldness of passing through a ghost was no fun at all.

'Hello, Harry, m'boy,' he said, grinning the same way Sirius would. 'You being taught well at Hogwarts?'

'Yes thanks, Uncle Alphard.'

'Super stuff, super stuff. I hope you're better behaved then this one was,' said Uncle Alphard, rolling his eyes towards Sirius.

'Only slightly,' came Sirius's voice. Harry could tell he was grinning.

'Here, Sirius, are these those mirrors I gave you all those years ago?'

'Yeah, I've got a lot of use of them.'

'You've kept them in good nick ... yes ... very good. A lot of memories these mirrors have ... well, I'll let you two get back to your little chat. Are you waiting up for Nymphadora?'

'I wasn't going to,' said Sirius, 'I'm just having a tea before I go upstairs.

'Very well, I'll stand sentry for he return then.'

'You don't need to, she won't be back until seven. Percy's usually up by then, anyway.'

'Yes, I suppose so still ...' Harry heard Uncle Alphard mumbling to himself as he left the kitchen.

'He cares too much sometimes, that's probably why he was my favourite relative after Andromeda growing up. How's Ron getting on with his broom by the way?'

'Really well, thanks. I think we've got a good chance of winning the Championship again.'

'I should hope so. have a friendly wager with Reggie after all, so you'd better win.' Sirius took a sip of his tea, then said, 'It's getting late Harry, you should get to bed. Remember, go and see Dumbledore as soon as you can. Good night.'

'Night,' said Harry as his reflection returned. He trudged up to the boy's dormitory, stowed his mirror away, got into his pyjamas and into his bed and fell into a restless sleep.


	85. The Lion and the Serpent

As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor Slytherin, Angelina insisted on almost daily practices. The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both teams over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretence of sportsmanship, were determined to see their own side victorious. Harry realised how much Professor McGonagall cared about beating Slytherin when she abstained from giving them homework in the week leading up to the match.

'I think you've got enough to be getting on with at the moment,' she said loftily. Nobody could quite believe their ears until she looked directly at Harry and Ron and said grimly, 'I've become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study, boys, and I really don't want to have to hand it over to Professor Black, so use the extra time to practise, won't you?'

Black, a former Seeker himself, was no less obviously partisan; he had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play. That didn't stop him from giving the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, a week's worth of detentions after he jinxed Alicia Spinnet, causing her eyebrows to grow so thick and fast they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth. He did however postpone them until after the match.

Harry felt optimistic about Gryffindor's chances; they had, after all, never lost to Draco's team. Admittedly, Ron was still not performing quite to Wood's standard, but he wasn't far off. His Firebolt had definitely given him a bolt of much needed confidaence. During one memorable practice he had hung one handed from his broom and kicked the Quaffle so hard away from the goalhoop that it soared the length of the pitch and through the centre hoop at the other end, the rest of the team felt this save compared favourably with one made recently by Barry Ryan, the Irish International Keeper, against Poland's top Chaser, Ladislaw Zamojski. Even Fred had said that Ron might yet make him and George proud, and that they were seriously considering admitting he was related to them, something they assured him they had been trying to deny for four years.

The only thing really worrying Harry was how much Ron was allowing the tactics of the Slytherin team to upset him before they even got on to the pitch. Harry, of course, had endured their snide comments for over four years, so whispers of, 'Hey, Potty, I heard Warrington's sworn to knock you off your broom on Saturday', far from chilling his blood, made him laugh. 'Warrington's aim's so pathetic I'd be more worried if he was aiming for the person next to me,' he retorted, which made Ron and Hermione laugh and wiped the smirk off Pansy Parkinson's face.

But Ron had never endured a relentless campaign of insults, jeers and intimidation. When Slytherins, some of them seventh years and considerably larger than he was, muttered as they passed in the corridors, 'Got your bed booked in the hospital wing. Weasley?' he didn't laugh, but turned a delicate shade of green. 

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy draughts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly grey, the mountains around Hogwarts were snowcapped and the temperature in the castle dropped so low that many students wore their thick protective dragonskin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The Slug Club Professor Black had hosted on Hallowe'en had been an elegant affair as usual, but had passed mostly without comment. When Professor Black had made derogatory remarks about Gryffindor's chances in the upcoming game however, Harry wondered aloud why it was that Slytherin was the only Quidditch Team that wasn't represented at the Slug Club, which he could tell had hit a nerve by the way Professor Black brushed past it.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. When Harry awoke he looked round at Ron's bed and saw him sitting bolt upright, his arms around his knees, staring fixedly into space. 

'You all right?' said Harry

Ron nodded but did not speak. Harry was reminded forcibly of the time Ron had accidentally put a Slug vomiting Charm on himself; he looked just as pale and sweaty as he had done then, nor to mention as reluctant to open his mouth.

'You just need some breakfast,' Harry said bracingly. 'C'mon.' 

The Great Hall was filling up fast when they arrived, the talk louder and the mood more exuberant than usual. As they passed the Slytherin table there was an upsurge of noise. Harry looked round and saw them meeting in their green and silver scarves and hats. Harry steered Ron past their table as quickly as he could.

They received a rousing welcome at the Gryffindor table, where everyone was wearing red and gold, but far from raising Ron's spirits the cheers seemed to sap the last of his morale; he collapsed on to the nearest bench looking as though he were facing his final meal.

'I must've been mental to do this,' he said in a croaky whisper. 'Mental.'

'Don't be thick,' said Harry firmly, passing him a choice of cereals, 'you're going to be fine. It's normal to be nervous.'

'I'm rubbish,' croaked Ron. 'I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?'

'Get a grip,' said Harry sternly. 'Look at that save you made with your foot the other day, even Fred and George said it was brilliant.'

Ron turned a tortured face to Harry.

'That was an accident,' he whispered miserably. 'I didn't mean to do it - I slipped off my broom when none of you were looking and when was trying to get back on I kicked the Quaffle by accident.'

'Well,' said Harry, recovering quickly from this unpleasant surprise, 'a few more accidents like that and the game's in the bag. Besides, you're on a Firebolt. Even without that you'd fly circle around the Slytherins. Except Draco perhaps, but he's my problem today.'

Hermione and Ginny sat down opposite them wearing red and gold scarves, gloves and rosettes.

'How're you feeling?' Ginny asked Ron, who was now staring into the dregs of milk at the bottom of his empty cereal bowl as though seriously considering attempting to drown himself in them.

'He's just nervous,' said Harry

'Well, that's a good sign, I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous,' said Hermione heartily.

'Hello,' said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. Harry looked up; Luna Lovegood had drifted over from the Ravenclaw table. Many people were staring at her and a few were openly laughing and pointing; she had managed to procure a hat shaped like a life-size lion's head, which was perched precariously on her head. 'I'm supporting Gryffindor,' said Luna, pointing unnecessarily at her hat. 'Look what it does ...'

She reached up and tapped the hat with her wand. It opened its mouth wide and gave an extremely realistic roar that made everyone in the vicinity jump.

'It's good, isn't it?' said Luna happily. 'I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway good luck, Ronald!'

She drifted away. They had not quite recovered from the shock of Luna's hat before Angelina came hurrying towards them, accompanied by Katie and Alicia, whose eyebrows had mercifully been returned to normal by Madam Pomfrey.

'When you're ready,' she said, 'we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions and change.'

'We'll be there in a bit,' Harry assured her. 'Ron's just got to have some breakfast.'

It became clear after ten minutes, however, that Ron was not capable of eating anything more and Harry thought it best to get him down to the changing rooms. As they rose from the table, Ron looked forlornly at his sister.

'Do you want to take my place?' he asked her. 

'No,' Ginny replied firmly. 'I've watched you in training. You'll be great.'

'Good luck, Ron,' said Hermione, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. 'And you, Harry -'

Ron seemed to come to himself slightly as they walked back across the Great Hall. He touched the spot on his face where Hermione had kissed him, looking puzzled, as though he was not quite sure what had just happened. He seemed too distracted to notice much around him. They hurried across the Entrance Hall, down the stone steps and out into the icy air.

The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down the sloping lawns towards the stadium. There was no wind at all and the sky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would be good without the drawback of direct sunlight in the eyes. Harry pointed out these encouraging factors to Ron as they walked, but he was not sure that Ron was listening. Angelina had changed already and was talking to the rest of the team when they entered. Harry and Ron pulled on their robes (Ron attempted to do his up back-to-front for several minutes before Alicia took pity on him and went to help), then sat down to listen to the pre-match talk while the babble of voices outside grew steadily louder as the crowd came pouring out of the castle towards the pitch.

As Angelina gave her pre-match prep-talk, they could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators' stands. Some people were singing, though Harry could not make out the words. He was starting to feel nervous, but he knew his butterflies were as nothing compared to Ron's, who was clutching his stomach and staring straight ahead again, his jaw set and his complexion pale grey.

'It's time,' said Angelina in a hushed voice, looking at her watch. 'C'mon everyone ... good luck.'

The team rose, shouldered their brooms and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them in which Harry could still hear singing, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles.

The Slytherin team was standing waiting for them. The new Captain, Montague, was built along the same lines as Dudley Dursley, with massive forearms like hairy hams. Behind him lurked Crabbe and Goyle, almost as large, blinking stupidly in the sunlight, swinging their new Beaters' bats. Malfoy stood to one side, the sunlight gleaming on his white-blond head. He caught Harry's eye and mouthed something that looked like 'sorry,' though Harry couldn't work out what he might be sorry about.

'Captains, shake hands,' ordered the referee Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reached each other. Harry could tell that Montague was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she did not wince. 'Mount your brooms ...' Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew. The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upwards.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Ron streak off towards the goalhoops. Harry zoomed higher, dodging a Bludger and set off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a glint of gold, on the other side of the stadium, Draco was doing exactly the same. 

'And it's Johnson - Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me -'

'JORDAN!' yelled Professor McGonagall.

'- just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest - and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's - ouch - been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe ... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and - nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away -'

Lee Jordan's commentary rang through the stadium and Harry listened as hard as he could through the wind whistling in his ears and the din of the crowd, all yelling and booing and singing, '- dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger - close call, Alicia - and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?' 

And as Lee paused to listen the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:

'Weasley cannot save a thing,  
He cannot block a single ring,  
That's why Slytherins all sing:  
'Weasley is our King.'

'Weasley was born in a bin,  
He always lets the Quaffle in,  
Weasley will make sure we win,  
Weasley is our King.'

'- and Alicia passes back to Angelina!' Lee shouted, and as Harry swerved, his insides boiling at what he had just heard, he knew Lee was trying to drown out the words of the song. Clearly this was what Draco had apologised for at the start of the match.

'Come on now, Angelina looks like she got just the Keeper to beat! SHE SHOOTS - SHE - aaaah!'

Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zig-zagging in between Alicia and Katie; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Ron.

'Weasley is our King,  
Weasley is our King,  
He always lets the Quaffle in,  
Weasley is our King!'

Harry could not help himself abandoning his search for the Snitch, he wheeled around to watch Ron, a lone figure at the far end of the pitch, hovering before the three goalhoops while the massive Warrington pelted towards him.

'- and it's Warrington with the Quaffle. Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead - A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:

'Weasley cannot save a thing,  
He cannot block a single ring ...'

'- so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team - come on, Ron!'

But the scream of delight came from the Slytherins end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them straight through Ron's central hoop. 'Slytherin score!' came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below, 'so that's ten-nil to Slytherin - bad luck, Ron'

The Slytherins sang even louder:

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,  
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN ...'

'- and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch -' cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

'WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,  
WEASLEY IS OUR KING!'

'Harry, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?' screamed Angelina, soaring past him to keep up with Katie. 'GET GOING!'

Harry realised he had been stationary in midair for over a minute watching the progress of the match without sparing a thought for the whereabouts of the Snitch; horrified, he went into a dive and started circling the pitch again, staring around, trying to ignore the chorus now thundering through the stadium:

'WEASLEY IS OUR KING,  
WEASLEY IS OUR KING ...'

There was no sign of the Snitch anywhere he looked; Draco was still circling the stadium just as he was. They met one another midway around the pitch, going in opposite directions.

'It was Montague's idea,' Draco said apologetically. 'I only found out about it last night when they shared it with the common room.'

'Well, I think it's having the desired effect,' said Harry. Draco grimaced and the two of them flew off again.

'- and it's Warrington again,' bellowed Lee, 'who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Spinnet, come on now, Angelina, you can take him - turns out you can't - but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh, who cares, one of them, anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell - er - drops it, too - so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle and he's off up the pitch, come on now, Gryffindor, block him!'

Harry zoomed around the end of the stadium behind the Slytherin goalhoops, willing himself not to look at what was going on at Ron's end. As he sped past the Slytherin Keeper, he heard Bletchley singing along with the crowd below:

'WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING ...'

'- and Pucey's dodged Alicia again and hes heading straight for the goal, stop it, Ron!' 

Harry did not have to look to see what had happened there was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins. Looking down, Harry saw the pug-faced Pansy Parkinson right at the front of the stands, her back to the pitch as she conducted the Slytherin supporters who were roaring:

'THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING,  
WEASLEY IS OUR KING!'

But twenty-nil was nothing, there was still time for Gryffindor to catch up or catch the Snitch. A few goals and they would be in the lead as usual, Harry assured himself, bobbing and weaving through the other players in pursuit of something shiny that turned out to be Montague's watchstrap.

But Ron let in two more goals. There was an edge of panic in Harry's desire to find the Snitch now. If he could just get it soon and finish the game quickly. 

'- and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on now, Angelina - GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle ...'

Harry could hear Luna's ludicrous lion hat roaring amidst the Gryffindor cheers and felt heartened; only thirty points in it, that was nothing, they could pull back easily. Harry ducked a Bludger that Crabbe had sent rocketing in his direction and resumed his frantic scouring of the pitch for the Snitch, keeping one eye on Malfoy in case he showed signs of having spotted it, but Malloy, like him, was continuing to soar around the stadium, searching fruitlessly.

'- Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey - Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good - I mean bad - Bell's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possession again.'

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,  
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,  
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN ...'

But Harry had seen it at last; the tiny fluttering Golden Snitch was hovering feet from the ground at the Slytherin end of the pitch. He dived ...

In a matter of seconds, Draco was streaking out of the sky on Harry's left, a green and silver blur lying flat on his broom. The Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goalhoops and scooted off towards the other side of the stands, its change of direction suited Draco, who was nearer, Harry pulled his Firebolt around,

He and Draco were now neck and neck ... Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching towards the Snitch ... to his right, Malfoy's arm extended too, was reaching, groping ...

It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds - Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball - Malloy's fingernails scrabbled the back of Harry's hand hopelessly - Harry pulled his broom upwards, holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval ...

They were saved, it did not matter that Ron had let in those goals, nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won - WHAM

A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forwards off his broom. Luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch, but he was winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch. He heard Madam Hooch's shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands compounded of catcalls, angry yells and jeering, a thud, then Angelina's frantic voice.

'Are you all right?'

'Course I am,' said Harry grimly, taking her hand and allowing her to pull him to his feet. Madam Hooch was zooming towards one of the Slytherin players above him, though he could not see who it was from this angle. 

'It was that thug Crabbe,' said Angelina angrily, 'he whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch - but we won. Harry, we won!'.

'I think I need a faster broom,' said Draco as he landed next to Harry. 'Nice catch.'

'Yeah, sorry about that,' said Harry.

'No you're not,' said Draco, smiling.

The rest of Harry's team were now landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph; all except Ron, who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and seemed to be making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone.

Katie and Alicia hugged Harry; Fred and George each shook his hand.

As Harry left the pitch for the changing rooms he saw Professor Black marching onto the pitch looking furious. Madam Hooch was still admonishing Crabbe and Professor Black was heading their way.

'Where's Ron?' Harry asked as they changed their robes.

'Maybe he went straight back to the common room,' Fred said.

'Don't be too hard on him,' Angelina warned the twins. 'Clearly it was first match nerves. We know he's a capable Keeper. And that song can't have helped. Besides, we won didn't we?'

The team agreed that Ron just needed some encouragement tonight. They had plenty of time to get him more used to flying in front of crowds before their next match.

But when they returned to Gryffindor Tower Ron was no where to be seen.

Everyone was very excited by their victory over Slytherin, giving them a small, but early lead in the House Cup, but Harry stared out of the dark window, wondering where Ron might be. Snow was falling. The Snitch he had caught earlier was now zooming around and around the common room, people were watching its progress as though hypnotised and Crookshanks was leaping from chair to chair, trying to catch it.

Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny were sat beside the fire, talking casually about the match, but ignoring the fact that Ron was still missing.

'Where do you think he could be?' Hermione eventually asked.

But at that precise moment, there was a creaking sound behind them as the Fat Lady swung forwards and Ron came clambering, through the portrait hole. He was very pale indeed and there was snow in his hair. 

He tried to push his way through the celebrations to the door leading to the dormitories. The others leapt up from their seats and managed to cut him off.

'Where have you been?' said Hermione anxiously.

'Walking,' Ron mumbled. 'He was still wearing his Quidditch things.'

'You look frozen,' said Hermione. 'Come and sit down! Ron walked to the fireside and sank into the chair furthest from Harry's, not looking at him. The stolen Snitch zoomed over their heads.

'I'm sorry,' Ron mumbled, looking at his feet.

'What for?' said Harry.

'For thinking I can play Quidditch,' said Ron. 'I'm going to resign first thing tomorrow.'

'You can't resign,' said Harry testily, 'what good would that do? Besides Sirius bought you a Firebolt, so you owe it to him as much as anyone.'

'But I was so useless -'

'- you weren't used to the crowds -'

'- it was that song that wound me up -'

'- it would've wound anyone up."

Hermione got up and walked to the window, away from the argument, watching the snow swirling down against the pane. 

'Look, drop it, will you!' Harry burst out 'You're a good Keeper, you just had first match nerves. If you quit then the Slytherins win.'

Ron said nothing but sat gazing miserably at the damp hem of his robes.

'Why don't you sleep on it?' said Neville. 'I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning.'


	86. The Eye of the Snake

Ron didn't feel much better when he work the next morning. This soon changed when he reached the Entrance Hall as Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny dragged him to breakfast.

There was a hubbub of excitement as the majority of the school stood around the giant hourglasses that relayed the house-points that they all gained and lost throughout the year. Each of the hourglasses contained considerably more gems than they had the previous day. Each except for the Slytherin hourglass with was entirely devoid of Emeralds.

'Do you think they've glitched?' Harry asked.

'That's impossible,' scoffed Hermione. 'Are you ever going to read Hogwarts: A History?'

'Well how do you explain that?' Ginny asked. 'No house has ever lost their house-points overnight before, surely.'

'Well, actually, in eighteen forty -'

'There's Draco! I bet he'll know what happened!' Ron said, cutting off Hermione before she could start her history lesson.

They made their way across the Entrance Hall to Draco who was just making his way up from the dungeons.

'Everyone's seen it then?' he said in greeting.

'Yeah,' said Neville, 'what happened?'

'After the match yesterday, Professor Black was furious,' Draco explained. 'He gathered everyone into the common room and explained how unsportsmanlike we had all acted.'

'Except for you, surely?' Hermione said in concern.

'I think that was probably implied,' said Draco. 'I enjoyed the show, at any rate. Anyway, he had already taken twenty points from Crabbe for hitting that late Bludger at you, Harry, plus he's joining Pucey in detention this week. But then, and this is where it's unfortunate to be a Slytherin right now, he took five points away from everyone who sang that Weasley is our King song. That's three hundred and fifty five points. Of course, we didn't have that many points to begin with, so the other houses gained the difference.'

Harry had felt his jaw dropping at every sentence Draco uttered, and Ron's mouth, likewise, was agape in shock.

'Amazing!' Ron said, instantly perking up. 'Just think, Harry, if I'd been any good Slytherin would have points right now! Do you know what, I think I will stay on the team after all!'

With that Ron, grinning from ear to ear, entered the Great Hall and sat himself down to a cheerful breakfast.

*

December arrived, bringing with it more snow and a positive avalanche of homework for the fifth-years. Hermione Neville's prefect duties also became more and more onerous as Christmas approached. They were called upon to supervise the decoration of the castle (Hermione relayed a story involving Peeves attempting to strangle Neville one night), to watch over first- and second-years spending their break-times inside because of the bitter cold ('I have a new respect for Percy,' said Neville, 'first-years are rude!') and to patrol the corridors in shifts with Argus Filch, who suspected that the holiday spirit might show itself in an outbreak of wizard duels ('He's got dung for brains, that one,' laughed Ron). 

Harry was very much looking forward to Christmas. Hermione was going skiing with her parents, something that greatly amused Ron, who had never heard of Muggles strapping narrow strips of wood on to their feet to slide down mountains. Ron and Ginny were going home to The Burrow. Neville was spending time with his Gran back home. Harry meanwhile was going to be spending Christmas with Sirius and Draco at Trompore Square.

At the Defense Club a few of the Seventh Years were managing to cast non-corporeal Patronuses, but it was Cedric who, in the last Club before term ended, cast the first with form.

'Excellent work, Cedric!' boomed Kingsley's voice as a ghostly Sparrowhawk darted around the cavernous Great Hall.

Draco, meanwhile, was still producing nothing - even Ron was managing a few silvery wisps. Harry was focusing his time in the club trying to help Draco find a memory happy enough to produce a Patronus.

'What about when you got your Hogwarts letter?' Harry tried.

Draco closed his eyes and concentrated hard.

'Expecto Patronum!' he cried, but still nothing happened.

At that moment they heard a squeal of glee from Hermione.

'I did it!' she exclaimed as a silvery otter ran around her feet.

*

The week before the Hogwarts Express was due to take them all back to London Harry, Ron and Neville were finishing their Transfiguration essays, whilst Hermione wrote a letter.

'I don't know if Draco's ever going to grasp the Patronus,' Harry said as he placed his final full stop.

'Well it's no surprise, is it?' said Ron. 'Growing up with Lucius Malfoy for a dad.'

'Yeah,' said Neville, 'and I bet that what once he considered happy memories are all tainted now his ideals have changed.'

'Perhaps you should talk to Narcissa over Christmas,' Hermione suggested. 'Maybe she has some ideas that could help.'

'Finished the novel have you? Who're you writing to anyway?' Ron asked trying to read the bit of parchment now trailing on the floor.

Hermione hitched it up out of sight.

'Viktor.'

'Krum?'

'How many other Viktors do we know?'

'What are you writing to him for?'

'I'm allowed to have a pen pal,' Hermione said haughtily. 'Besides, Draco writes to him regularly too. Oh - there's a thought - perhaps Viktor has some thoughts ...'

Ron said nothing, but looked disgruntled. They sat in silence for another twenty minutes, Ron finishing his Transfiguration essay with many snorts of impatience and crossings-out, Hermione writing steadily to the very end of the parchment, rolling it up carefully and sealing it, Neville playing solitaire with a pack of exploding cards and Harry and Ginny laying next to one another in the warmth of the fire. Harry was excited to be seeing Sirius again, and hopefully not argue this time, but couldn't help wishing he was spending Christmas with Ginny.

As the fire crackled lower and lower, until the red-hot embers crumbled into ash Harry looked around and saw that they were, yet again, the last ones in the common room. 

'Well, night,' said Hermione, yawning widely as she set off up the girls' staircase.

'What does she see in Krum?' Ron demanded, as he, Harry and Neville climbed the boys' stairs.

'Well,' said Harry, considering the matter, 'I s'pose he's older, isn't he ... and he's an international Quidditch player ...'

'Not to mention his good rugged looks,' said Neville. 'Ans he's in touch with his emotions ...'

'Yeah, but apart from that,' said Ron, sounding aggravated. 'I mean, he's a grouchy git, isn't he?'

'Bit grouchy, yeah,' said Harry, whose thoughts were still on Ginny.

They pulled off their robes and put on pyjamas in silence; Dean and Seamus were already asleep. Harry put his glasses on his bedside table and got into bed but did not pull the hangings closed around his four-poster, instead, he stared at the patch of starry sky visible through the window next to Neville's bed.

'Night,' grunted Ron, from somewhere to his right.

'Night,' came Neville's cheerful reply.

'Night,' said Harry.

Neville snuffled as he drifted off to sleep. An owl hooted somewhere out in the night.

Harry dreamed he was back in the Great Hall, as it was set out for Defense Club. Only he and Draco were there. Draco was accusing Harry of luring him there under false pretences, he said Harry had promised him a hundred and fifty Chocolate Frog Cards if he showed up. Harry protested. Draco shouted, 'Father would always give me Chocolate Frog Cards when I was unhappy, look!' And he pulled out fistfuls of Cards from inside his robes and threw them into the air. Then he turned into Viktor, who said, 'You promised Draco you vould make him happy. How could you not bring the froggy cards? How can he be happy? You must give him you Firebolt if you are a true friend.' And Harry was protesting that he could not give Draco his Firebolt because it had been a gift and anyway the whole thing was ridiculous, he'd only come to the Great Hall room to put up a Christmas Tree decorated in baubles shaped like Peeves.

The dream changed ...

His body felt smooth, powerful and flexible. He was gliding between shining metal bars, across dark, cold stone ... he was flat against the floor, sliding along on his belly ... he had turned into his snake form ... it was dark, yet he could see objects around him shimmering in strange vibrant colours he was turning his head ... at first glance the corridor was empty ... but no ... Harry put out his tongue ... he tasted the scent of a man in the air ... in front of him was A door at the end of the corridor ... the man was nearby, but Harry couldn't see where ...

Harry longed to find this man ... to bite the man ... but he must master the impulse ... he had more important work to do ...

Suddenly the man appeared in front of Harry ... as if from thin air ... his vibrant blurred outline towered above him ... a wand in hand ... he had no choice he reared high from the floor and struck once twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood ...

The man was yelling in pain ... then he fell silent ... he slumped backwards ... against the wall ... blood was splattering on to the floor ...

His forehead hurt terribly it was aching fit to burst ... 

'Harry! HARRY!'

He opened his eyes. Every inch of his body was covered in icy sweat, his bed covers were twisted all around him like a strait jacket; he felt as though a white-hot poker were being applied to his forehead.

'Harry!'

Ron was standing over him looking extremely frightened. There were more figures at the foot of Harry's bed. He clutched his head in his hands; the pain was blinding him he rolled right over and vomited over the edge of the mattress.

'He's really ill,' said Neville's scared voice. 'Should we call someone?'

'Harry! Harry!'

He had to tell Ron, it was very important that he tell him ... taking great gulps of air, Harry pushed himself up in bed, willing himself not to throw up again, the pain half-blinding him. 

'Percy,' he panted, his chest heaving. 'Percy's been attacked.'

'What?' said Ron uncomprehendingly.

'Percy! He's been bitten, it's serious, there was blood every where.'

'I'm going for help,' said Neville, and Harry heard footsteps running out of the dormitory.

'Harry, mate,' said Ron uncertainly, 'you ... you were just -'

'No!' said Harry furiously, it was crucial that Ron understand.

'It wasn't a dream not an ordinary dream. I was there, I saw it ... I did it ...'

He could hear Seamus and Dean muttering but did not care. The pain in his forehead was subsiding slightly, though he was still sweating and shivering feverishly. He retched again and Ron leap backwards out of the way.

'Harry, you're not well,' he said shakily. 'Neville's gone for help.'

'I'm fine!' Harry choked, wiping his mouth on his pyjamas and shaking uncontrollably. 'There's nothing wrong with me, it's Percy you've got to worry about - we need to find out where he is - he's bleeding like mad - I was - it was a huge snake.' 

He tried to get out of bed and make Ron understand, but Ron pushed him back into it.

Dean and Seamus were still whispering somewhere nearby. Whether one minute passed or ten, Harry did not know; he simply sat there shaking, feeling the pain recede very slowly from his scar then there were hurried footsteps coming up the stairs and he heard Neville's voice again. 

'Over here, Professor.'

Professor McGonagall came hurrying into the dormitory in her tartan dressing gown, her glasses perched lopsidedly on the bridge of her bony nose. 

'What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?!'

He had never been so pleased to see her; it was a member of the Order of the Phoenix he needed now, not someone fussing over him and prescribing useless potions. 

'It's Ron's brother,' he said, sitting up again. 'Percy - he's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen.'

'What do you mean, you saw it happen?' said Professor McGonagall, her dark eyebrows contracting.

'I don't know - I was asleep and then I was there!'

'You mean you dreamed this?'

'No!' said Harry angrily, would none of them understand? 'I was having a dream at first about something completely different, some thing stupid ... and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it. Percy was in a corridor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed. someone's got to find out where he is ...'

Professor McGonagall was gazing at him through her lopsided spectacles as though horrified at what she was seeing. 

'I'm not lying and I'm not mad!' Harry told her, his voice rising to a shout. 'I tell you, I saw it happen!'

'I believe you, Potter,' said Professor McGonagall curtly. 'Get your dressing gown - we're going to see the Headmaster.'

Finally, thought Harry. He had gotten through to McGonagall. He only hoped it wasn't too late. If only he hadn't wanted to be like Sirius, like his father, so much. He would never have become an Animagus, and now Percy wouldn't be fighting for his life.


	87. St Mungo's

'Weasley, you ought to come too,' said Professor McGonagall. They followed Professor McGonagall past the silent figures of Neville, Dean and Seamus, out of the dormitory, down the spiral stairs into the common room, through the portrait hole and off along the Fat Lady's moonlit corridor.

Harry felt as though the panic inside him might spill over at any moment; he wanted to run, to yell for Dumbledore; Percy Weasley was bleeding as they walked along so sedately, and what if his fangs had been poisonous? 

How could he have attacked Percy like that? After everything his family had done for Harry, why would Harry feel the need as he did to surge forward and cause such pain. And how had Harry been in two places at once? Ron had said he had been thrashing in his bed, yet Harry knew, without a shadow of a doubt that he had been in that corridor, that he had been the snake to attack Percy. Sirius hadn't told him about this part of being an Animagus.

They passed Mrs Norris, who turned her lamplike eyes upon them and hissed faintly, but Professor McGonagall said, 'Shoo!' Mrs Norris slunk away into the shadows, and in a few minutes they had reached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. 'Fizzing Whizzbee,' said Professor McGonagall.

The gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside; the wall behind it split in two to reveal a stone staircase that was moving continually upwards like a spiral escalator. The three of them stepped on to the moving stairs, the wall closed behind them with a thud and they were moving upwards in tight circles until they reached the highly polished oak door with the brass knocker shaped like a griffin.

Though it was now well past midnight there were voices coming from inside, a positive babble of them. It sounded as though Dumbledore was entertaining at least a dozen people.

Professor McGonagall rapped three times with the griffin knocker and the voices ceased abruptly as though someone had switched them all off. The door opened of its own accord and Professor McGonagall led Harry and Ron inside. The room was in half-darkness; the strange silver instruments standing on tables were silent and still rather than whirring and emitting puffs of smoke as they usually did; the portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses covering the walls were all snoozing in their frames. Behind the door, a magnificent red and gold bird the size of a swan dozed on its perch with its head under its wing. 

'Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall, and ... ah.'

Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk; he leaned forward into the pool of candlelight illuminating the papers laid out before him. He was wearing a magnificently embroidered purple and gold dressing gown over a snowy white night shirt, but seemed wide-awake, his penetrating light blue eyes fixed intently upon Professor McGonagall.

'Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a well, a nightmare,' said Professor McGonagall. 'He says ...'

'It wasn't a nightmare,' said Harry quickly

Professor McGonagall looked round at Harry, frowning slightly.

'Very well, then, Potter, you tell the Headmaster about it.'

'Well, I was asleep,' said Harry and, even in his terror and his desperation to make Dumbledore understand, he felt slightly irritated that the Headmaster was not looking at him, but examining his own interlocked fingers. 'But it wasn't an ordinary dream it was real. I saw it happen.' He took a deep breath. 'Ron's brother - Percy - has been attacked by a giant snake.'

The words seemed to reverberate in the air after he had said them, sounding slightly ridiculous, even comic. There was a pause in which Dumbledore leaned back and stared meditatively at the ceiling Ron looked from Harry to Dumbledore, white-faced and shocked.

'How did you see this?' Dumbledore asked quietly, still not looking at Harry.

'Well, I dont know,' said Harry, rather angrily - what did it matter? 'Inside my head. I suppose.'

'You misunderstand me,' said Dumbledore, still in the same calm tone. 'I mean can you remember where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?'

This was such a curious question that Harry gaped at Dumbledore, it was almost as though he knew.

'I was the snake,' he said. 'I saw it all from the snake's point of view.'

Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron who was still whey-faced, asked in a new and sharper voice, 'Is Percy seriously injured?'

'Yes,' said Harry emphatically - why were they all so slow on the uptake, did they not realise how much a person bled when fangs that long pierced their side? And why could Dumbledore not do him the courtesy of looking at him? But Dumbledore stood up, so quickly it made Harry jump, and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very near the ceiling.

'Everard?' he said sharply. 'And you too, Dilys!'

A sallow-faced wizard with a short black fringe and an elderly witch with long silver ringlets in the frame beside him, both of whom seemed to have been in the deepest of sleeps, opened their eyes immediately.

'You were listening?' said Dumbledore. The wizard nodded; the witch said, 'Naturally.'

'The man has red hair and glasses,' said Dumbledore: 'Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people.' 

Both nodded and moved sideways out of their frames, but instead of emerging in neighbouring pictures (as usually happened at Hogwarts) neither reappeared. 

One frame now contained nothing but a backdrop of dark curtain, the other a handsome leather arm chair Harry noticed that many of the other headmasters and mistresses on the walls, though snoring and drooling most convincingly, kept sneaking peeks at him from under their eyelids, and he suddenly understood who had been talking when they had knocked.

'Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts's most celebrated Heads,' Dumbledore said, now sweeping around Harry, Ron and Professor McGonagall to approach the magnificent sleeping bird on his perch beside the door. 'Their renown is such that both have portraits hanging in other important wizarding institutions. As they are free to move between their own portraits, they can tell us what may be happening elsewhere ...'

'But Percy could be anywhere!' said Harry.

'Please sit down, all three of you,' said Dumbledore, as though Harry had not spoken, 'Everard and Dilys may not be back for several minutes. Professor McGonagall, if you could draw up extra chairs.'

Professor McGonagall pulled her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown and waved it; three chairs appeared out of thin air, straight-backed and wooden. Harry sat down, watching Dumbledore over his shoulder. 

Dumbledore swooped down upon one of the fragile silver instruments whose function Harry had never known, carried it over to his desk, sat down facing them again and tapped it gently with the tip of his wand.

The instrument tinkled into life at once with rhythmic clinking noises. Tiny puffs of pale green smoke issued from the minuscule silver tube at the top. Dumbledore watched the smoke closely, his brow furrowed. After a few seconds, the tiny puffs became a steady stream of smoke that thickened and coiled in the air ... a serpent's head grew out of the end of it, opening its mouth wide. Harry wondered whether the instrument was confirming his story; he looked eagerly at Dumbledore for a sign that he was right, but Dumbledore did not look up.

'Naturally, naturally,' murmured Dumbledore apparently to himself, still observing the stream of smoke without the slightest sign of surprise. 'But in essence divided?'

Harry could make neither head nor tail of this question. The smoke serpent, however, split itself instantly into two snakes, both coiling and undulating in the dark air. With a look of grim satisfaction, Dumbledore gave the instrument another gentle tap with his wand the clinking noise slowed and died and the smoke serpents grew faint, became a formless haze and vanished.

Dumbledore replaced the instrument on its spindly little table Harry saw many of the old headmasters in the portraits follow him with their eyes, then realising that Harry was watching them, hastily pretend to be sleeping again. Harry wanted to ask what the strange silver instrument was for, but before he could do so, there was a shout from the top of the wall to their right; the wizard called Everard had reappeared in his portrait, panting slightly.

'Dumbledore!'

'What news?' said Dumbledore at once.

'I yelled until someone came running, said the wizard, who was mopping his brow on the curtain behind him, 'said I'd heard some thing moving downstairs - they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check - you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood. I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left -'

'Good,' said Dumbledore as Ron made a convulsive movement. 'I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then -'

And moments later, the silver-ringleted witch had reappeared in her picture, too; she sank, coughing, into her armchair and said. 'Yes, they've taken him to St Mungo's, Dumbledore ... they carried him past my portrait ... he looks bad ...'

'Thank you,' said Dumbledore. He looked round at Professor McGonagall Minerva, 'I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children.'

'Of course.'

Professor McGonagall got up and moved swiftly to the door. Harry cast a sideways glance at Ron, who was looking terrified.

'And Dumbledore what about Molly and Arthur?' said Professor McGonagal, pausing at the door. 

'That will be a job for Fawkes, once I have made arrangements,' said Dumbledore. 'But they may already know thanks that excellent clock of theirs.' 

Harry knew Dumbledore was referring to the clock that told, not the time, but the whereabouts and conditions of the various Weasley family members, and, with a pang, he thought that Percy's hand must, even now, be pointing at mortal peril. But it was very late. Mr and Mrs Weasley were probably asleep, not watching the clock. 

Dumbledore was now rummaging in a cupboard behind Harry and Ron. He emerged from it carrying a blackened old kettle, which he placed carefully on his desk. He raised his wand and murmured, 'Portus!' For a moment the kettle trembled, glowing with an odd blue light then it quivered to rest, as solidly black as ever.

Dumbledore marched over to another portrait, this time of a clever-looking wizard with a pointed beard, who had been painted wearing the Slytherin colours of green and silver and was apparently sleeping so deeply that he could not hear Dumbledore's voice when he attempted to rouse him.

'Phineas. Phineas.'

The subjects of the portraits lining the room were no longer pretending to be asleep; they were shifting around in their frames, the better to watch what was happening. When the clever-looking wizard continued to feign sleep, some of them shouted his name, too.

'Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!'

He could not pretend any longer, he gave a theatrical jerk and opened his eyes wide.

'Did someone call?'

'I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas,' said Dumbledore. 'I've got another message:'

'Visit my other portrait?' said Phineas in a reedy voice, giving a long, fake yawn (his eyes travelling around the room and focusing on Harry). 'Oh no,' Dumbledore, 'I am too tired tonight.'

The portraits on the surrounding walls broke into a storm of protest. 

'Insubordination, sir!' roared a corpulent, red-nosed wizand, brandishing his fists. 

'Dereliction of duty! We are honour-bound to give service to the present Headmaster of Hogwarts!' cried a frail-looking old wizard whom Harry recognised as Dumbledore's predecessor, Armando Dippet. 'Shame on you, Phineas!'

'Shall I persuade him,' Dumbledore called a gimlet-eyed witch raising an unusually thick wand that looked not unlike a birch rod.

'Oh, very well,' said the wizard called Phineas, eyeing the wand with mild apprehension, 'but surely Regulus is here in the castle, is he not?'

'It is Narcissa I need you to contact tonight,' said Dumbledore. 'You are to give her the message that Percy Weasley has been gravely injured and that his parents, siblings and Harry Potter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?'

'Percy Weasley, injured, parents and siblings and Harry Potter coming to stay,' repeated Phineas in a bored voice. 'Yes, yes... very well.'

He sloped away into the frame of the portrait and disappeared from view at the very moment the study door opened again. Fred, George and Ginny were ushered inside by Professor McGonagall, all three of them looking dishevelled and shocked, still in their night things.

'Harry - what's going on?' asked Ginny, who looked frightened. 'Professor McGonagall says you saw Percy get hurt -'

'Your brother has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix,' said Dumbledore, before Harry could speak. 'He has been taken to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Narcissa Malfoy's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than The Burrow. You will meet your mother there.'

'How're we going?' asked Fred, looking shaken. 'Floo powder?'

'No,' Dumbledore, 'Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey.' He pointed to the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. 'We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back. I want to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you -'

A few minutes later the wizard called Phineas had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner. 'My great-great-grandaughter is happy to receive her guests. Her cousin is also awake.'

'Come here, then,' Dumbledore said to Harry and the Weasleys. They gathered around Dumbledore's desk. 'You have all used a Portkey before?' asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. 'Good. On the count of three, then ... one ... two ...'

It happened in a fraction of a second in the infinitesimal pause before Dumbledore said 'three'. Harry looked up at him - they were very close together - and Dumbledore's clear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry's face. At once, Harry's scar burned white-hot, as though the old wound had burst open again - and unbidden, unwanted, but terrifyingly strong, there rose within Harry a hatred so powerful he felt, for that instant, he would like nothing better than to strike - to bite - to sink his fangs into the man before him -

'... three!'

Harry felt a powerful jerk behind his navel, the ground vanished from beneath his feet, his hand was glued to the kettle; he was banging into the others as they all sped forwards in a swirl of colours and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling them onwards until his feet hit the ground so hard his knees buckled; the kettle clattered to the ground.

Harry scrambled to his feet and looked around, they had arrived in the grand entrance of number nineteen, Trompore Square.

Narcissa was stood at the foot of the staircase, looking regal in her flowing night gown. Remus was also there, his weathered face, looking older than Harry had ever seen it. Uncle Alphard was floating next to them, Sirius was hurring fowards, looking anxious. 

'What's going on?' he said, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. 'Phineas Nigellus said Percy's been badly injured -'

'Ask Harry,' said Fred.

'Yeah, I want to hear this for myself,' said George

The twins and Ginny were staring at him. Kreacher's footsteps had stopped on the stairs outside.

'It was -' Harry began, this was even worse than telling McGonagall and Dumbledore. 'I had a - a kind of - vision ...'

And he told them all that he had seen, though he altered the story so that it sounded as though he had watched from the side lines as the snake attacked, rather than from behind the snake's own eyes. Ron, who was still very white, gave him a fleeting look, but did not speak. When Harry had finished. Fred. George and Ginny continued to stare at him for a moment. Harry did not know whether he was imagining it or not, but he fancied there was some thing accusatory in their looks. Well, if they were going to blame him just for seeing the attack, he was glad he had not told them that he had been the snake. He dreaded what Ginny would say.

'Are Mum and Dad here?' said Fred, turning to Sirius.

'They probably doesn't even know what's happened yet,' said Sirius. 'I expect Dumbledore's letting them know now.'

'We've got to go to St Mungo's,' said Ginny urgently. She looked around at her brothers; they were of course still in their pyjamas. 'Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything?'

'You need to go to bed,' said Remus firmly.

'We can go to St Mungo's if we want,' said Fred, with a mulish expression. 'He's our brother!'

'And how will you explain how you knew your brother was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?'

'What does that matter?' said George hotly.

'It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!' said Sirius angrily. 'Have you any idea what the people would make of that information? Not least of all Voldemort.'

Maybe it was the fact that Sirius had mentioned Voldemort's name, but Fred and George didn't pursue it any further. Ron was still ashen-faced and silent. 

Ginny said, 'Somebody else could have told us. we could have heard it somewhere other than Harry.'

'No,' said Remus. 'It's going to be suspicious enough that you've disappeared from Hogwarts before the end of term. If you go to St Mungo's half an hour after the attack occurred questions will be asked. The plans of The Order -'

'We don't care about the dumb Order!' shouted Fred. 

'It's our brother dying we're talking about!' yelled George

'Your brother knew what he was getting into and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!' said Sirius, equally angry. 'This is how it is - this is why you're not in the Order - you don't understand - there are things worth dying for!'

'You wouldn't say that if you had a brother you actually cared about!' bellowed Fred.

The little colour remaining in Sirius's face drained from it. He looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hit Fred.

'That's enough, Fred,' said Remus. 'I know it's difficult, but we've got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We have to stay put, at least until we hear from your parents, all right?'

Fred and George still looked mutinous. Harry went to take Ginny's hand but she pulled away.

'Let's sit in the reception room whilst we wait,' said Remus. 'I'll whip us up some cocoa.'

The Weasleys reluctantly trudged towards the reception room, led by Uncle Alphard and followed awkwardly by Narcissa. Remus went towards the kitchen to fix up the cocoa. Sirius held back though, his hand on Harry's shoulder, as if sensing there was more to his story.

'It was me,' Harry said as soon as they were alone.

'No,' said Sirius.

'I was the snake, Sirius. I attacked Percy. I should never have become an Animagus.'

'Harry, it doesn't work like that, I promise you.'

Sirius pulled Harry in tight and Harry sobbed onto his shoulder.

'I've been an Animagus longer than you've been alive. I promise you, you can't teleport halfway across the country in your animal form. You are the human and the animal, you can only transform from one to the other, but you share the same space.'

Sirius's words were of some comfort, but Harry could still remember attacking Percy Weasley, and the thoughts he had had about wanting to transform and bite Dumbledore in his office just minutes ago.

'I think Ron blamed me,' Harry said.

'I think Ron is scared at the moment. You saw his father get attacked. He also knows you can turn into a snake. But deep down he knows that you are a friend and would never do this intentionally. Besides, he saw you in your bed, didn't he?'

Harry nodded.

'But that's not all,' said Harry, in a voice only a little above a whisper. 'Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey, for a couple of seconds there I felt the snake in me again. I felt my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore - Sirius I wanted to attack him.

'It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all,' said Sirius, 'You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and -'

'It wasn't that,' said Harry, shaking his head, 'it was like something rose up inside me, like I was going to transform there and then inside the office.'

'You're in shock,' said Sirius firmly. 'You're blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it's lucky you did witness it. Please stop worrying, there's nothing to be done right now, other than wait.'

They joined the others in the reception room, and soon Remus brought them their cocoa. They all drank, and for a while the only sounds were those of the crackling of the fire and the soft thud of their mugs on the coasters.

Harry was only drinking to have something to do with his hands. His stomach was full of horrible hot, bubbling guilt. They would not be here if it were not for him; they would all still be asleep in bed. And it was no good telling himself that by raising the alarm he had ensured that Percy was found, because there was also the inescapable business of it being he who had attacked Percy in the first place.

 _Don't be stupid, Sirius said it was impossible,_ he told himself, trying to keep calm, though the hand holding his mug was shaking ... _you were lying in bed, you weren't attacking anyone ..._

But then, what just happened in Dumbledore's office? he asked him self. _I felt like I wanted to attack Dumbledore, too ... and there was no denying his Animagus form was a snake ... a snake with fangs, just like when he had attacked Percy ..._

He put the mug down a little harder than he meant to, and it slopped over on to the table. Narcissa's eyes flitted across to his spillage, but she said nothing. No one took any notice. Then a burst of fire in midair illuminated the reception room and, as they gave cries of shock, a scroll of parchment fell with a thud on to the table, accompanied by a single golden phoenix tail feather.

'Fawkes!' said Sirius at once, snatching up the parchment. 'That's not Dumbledore's writing - it must be a message from your parents - here -'

He thrust the letter into George's hand, who ripped it open and read aloud. 'Percy is still alive. We are setting out for St Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.' George looked around the table. 'Still alive,' he said slowly. 'But that makes it sound ...'

He did not need to finish the sentence. It sounded to Harry, as though Percy was hovering somewhere between life and death. Still exceptionally pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother's letter as though it might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of George's hands and read it for himself, then looked up at Harry, who felt his hand shaking on his mug again and clenched it more tightly to stop the trembling.

If Harry had ever sat through a longer night than this one, he could not remember it. Remus suggested once, without any real conviction, that they all go to bed, but the Weasleys' looks of disgust were answer enough. They mostly sat in silence around the table, watching the candle wick sinking lower and lower into liquid wax, occasionally raising a mug to their lips, speaking only to check the time, to wonder aloud what was happening, and to reassure each other that if there was bad news, they would know straightaway, for Mr and Mrs Weasley must long since have arrived at St Mungo's.

Fred fell into a doze, his head lolling sideways on to his shoulder, Ginny was curled like a cat on her chair, but her eyes were open; Harry could see them reflecting the firelight. She had been avoiding his own eyes since they had arrived. Ron was sitting with his head in his hands, whether awake or asleep it was impossible to tell. Remus kept refilling their cocoa. Narcissa sat by the piano, away from the others, looking half as if she wished she could comfort the Weasleys, half as if she wished she wasn't there at all. Harry and Sirius looked at each other every so often, intruders upon the family grief, waiting ... waiting ...

At ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch, the door swung open and Mrs Weasley and Bill entered the reception room. They were extremely pale, but when everyone turned to look at them, Fred, Ron and Harry half rising from their chairs, Mrs Weasley gave a wan smile.

'He's going to be all right,' she said, her voice weak with tiredness. 'He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Your dad's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work.'

Fred fell back into his chair with his hands over his face. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother and hugged her. Ron gave a very shaky laugh and downed the rest of his cocoa in one.

'Breakfast!' said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to his feet. 'I'll go and make myself useful. Let's see - breakfast for -' he counted everyone in the room '- ten. Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast.'

'There's some tests in the kitchen,' said Narcissa, rising. 'I think it'd be far more comfortable to eat in here than the dining room this morning.'

The cousins left with Remus jointing them. Harry tried to follow to help to help. He did not want to intrude on the Weasleys' happiness and he dreaded the moment when Mrs Weasley would ask him to recount his vision. However, he has barely got out of his seat when Mrs Weasley pulled him into a hug.

'I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry,' she said in a mullled voice. 'They might not have found Percy for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's been able to think up a good cover story for Percy being where he was, you've no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis.'

Harry could hardly bear her gratitude, but fortunately she soon released him.

'I think we should eat in the kitchen,' she said to her family. 'Narcissa has let us into her home and we know she doesn't like food in here.

She led Harry and her children to the kitchen where she thanked Sirius, Remus and Narcissa for looking after her children through the night. They assured her that they were very pleased to have been able to help and Narcissa was happy to host them as long as Percy was in hospital.

'Oh, Narcissa, I'm so grateful ... they think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer ... of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas.'

'Not a problem at all,' said Narcissa, 'the house is big enough after all. It will be a nice change to have people round for Christmas. Usually it's just myself and Lucius ...'

Mrs Weasley smiled Narcissa touched her arm tenderly, then threw on an apron and began to help with breakfast. 

*

Everyone but Harry spent the rest of the morning sleeping. He went up to the bedroom he had occupied over the last few weeks of summer, but rather than crawling into his bedcovers, Harry sat fully clothed, hunched against the cold metal bars of the bedstead, keeping himself deliberately uncomfortable, determined not to fall into a doze, terrified that he might become the serpent again in his sleep and wake to find that he had attacked Ron, or else slithered through the house after one of the others.

Their trunks arrived from Hogwarts while they were eating lunch, so they could dress as Muggles for the trip to St Mungo's, Everybody except Harry was riotously happy and talkative as they changed out of their robes into jeans and sweatshirts. When Tonks and Mad-Eye turned up to escort them across London, they greeted them gleefully, laughing at the bowler hat Mad-Eye was wearing at an angle to conceal his magical eye and assuring him, truthfully, that Tonks, whose hair was short and bright pink again, would attract far less attention on the Underground. Tonks was very interested in Harry's vision of the attack on Percy, something Harry was not remotely interested in discussing.

'There isn't any Seer blood in your family, is there?' she enquired curiously, as they sat side by side on a train rattling towards the heart of the city. 

'No,' said Harry, thinking of Professor Trelawney and feeling insulted.

'No,' said Tonks musingly, 'no, I suppose it's not really prophecy you're doing, is it? I mean, you're not seeing the future, you te seeing the present ... it's odd, isn't it? Useful, though.'

Harry didn't answer; fortunately, they got out at the next stop, a station in the very heart of London, and in the bustle of leaving the train he was able to allow Fred and George to get between himself and Tonks, who was leading the way. They all followed her up the escalator, Moody clunking along at the back of the group, his bowler tilted low and one gnarled hand stuck in between the buttons of his coat, clutching his wand. Harry thought he sensed the concealed eye staring hard at him. Trying to avoid any more questions about his dream, he asked Mad-Eye where St Mungo's was hidden.

'Not far from here,' grunted Moody as they stepped out into the wintry air on a broad store-lined street packed with Christmas shoppers. He pushed Harry a little ahead of him and stumped along just behind; Harry knew the eye was rolling in all directions under the tilted hat. 'Wasn't easy to find a good location for a hospital. Nowhere in Diagon Alley was big enough and we couldn't have it underground like the Ministry - wouldn't be healthy. In the end they managed to get hold of a building up here. Theory was, sick wizards could come and go and just blend in with the crowd.'

He seized Harry's shoulder to prevent them being separated by a gaggle of shoppers plainly intent on nothing but making it into a nearby shop full of electrical gadgets. 

'Here we go,' said Moody a moment later.

They had arrived outside a large, old-fashioned, red-brick department store called Pure & Dowse Ltd. The place had a shabby, miserable air; the window displays consisted of a few chipped dummies with their wigs askew, standing at random and modelling fashions at least ten years out of date. Large signs on all the dusty doors read: 'Closed for Refurbishment'. Harry distinctly heard a large woman laden with plastic shopping bags say to her end as they passed, 'It's never open, that place ...'

'Right,' said Tonks, beckoning them towards a window displaying nothing but a particularly ugly female dummy. Its false eyelashes were hanging off and it was modelling a green nylon pinafore dress. 'Everybody ready?' 

They nodded, clustering around her. Moody gave Harry another shove between the shoulder blades to urge him forward and Tonks leaned close to the glass, looking up at the very ugly dummy, her breath steaming up the glass.

'Wotcher,' she said, 'we're here to see Percy Weasley.'

Harry thought how absurd it was for Tonks to expect the dummy to hear her talking so quietly through a sheet of glass, with buses rumbling along behind her and all the racket of a street full of shoppers. Then he reminded himself that dummies couldn't hear anyway. Next second, his mouth opened in shock as the dummy gave a tiny nod and beckoned with its jointed finger, and Tonks had seized Ginny and Mrs Weasley by the elbows, stepped right through the glass and vanished.

Bill, Fred and George stepped after them. Harry glanced around at the jostling crowd, not one of them seemed to have a glance to spare for window displays as ugly as those of Purge & Dowse Ltd; nor did any of them seem to have noticed that six people had just melted into thin air in front of them. 

'Cmon,' growled Moody, giving Harry yet another poke in the back, and together, with Ron, they stepped forward through what felt like a sheet of cool water, emerging quite warm and dry on the other side.

There was no sign of the ugly dummy or the space where she had stood. They were in what seemed to be a crowded reception area where rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of Witch Weekly, others sporting gruesome disfigurements such as elephant trunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests.

The room was scarcely less quiet than the street outside, for many of the patients were making very peculiar noises; a sweaty-faced witch in the centre of the front row, who was fanning herself vigorously with a copy of the Daily Prophet, kept letting off a high pitched whistle as steam came pouring out of her mouth, a grubby-looking warlock in the corner clanged like a bell every time he moved and, with each clang, his head vibrated horribly so that he had to seize himself by the ears to hold it steady.

Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards. Harry noticed the emblem embroidered on their chests: a wand and bone, crossed.

'Are they doctors?' he asked Ron.

'Doctors?' said Ron, looking startled. 'Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers'

'Over here!' called Mrs Weasley, above the renewed clanging of the warlock in the corner, and they followed her to the queue in front of a plump blonde witch seated at a desk marked Enquiries. The wall behind her was covered in notices and posters saying things like: A CLEAN CAULDRON KEEPS POTIONS FROM BECOMING POISONS and ANTIDOTES ARE ANTI-DON'TS UNLESS APPROVED BY A QUALIFIED HEALER. There was also a large portrait of a witch with long silver ringlets which was labelled:

Dilys Derwent St Mungo's Healer 1722-1741

Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

1741-1768

Dilys was eyeing the Weasley party closely as though counting them; when Harry caught her eye she gave a tiny wink, walked sideways out of her portrait and vanished.

Meanwhile, at the front of the queue, a young wizard was performing an odd on-the-spot jig and trying, in between yelps of pain, to explain his predicament to the witch behind the desk.

'It's these - ouch - shoes my brother gave me - ow - they're eating my - ouch - feet - look at them - there must be some kind of - ARGH - jinx on them and I can't - AAAAARGH - get them off!' He hopped from one foot to the other as though dancing on hot coals.

'The shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?' said the blonde witch, irritably pointing at a large sign to the left of her desk. 'You want Spell Damage, fourth floor, just like it says on the floor guide. Next.'

As the wizard hobbled and pranced sideways out of the way, the Weasley party moved forward a few steps and Harry read the floor guide

ARTEFACT ACCIDENTS - Ground floor  
Cauldron explosion, wand backfiring, broom crashes, etc.

CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES - First floor  
Bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc.

MAGICAL BUGS - Second floor  
Contagious maladies, eg, dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrofungulus, etc. 

POTION AND PLANT POISONING - Third Floor  
Rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling, etc.

SPELL DAMAGE - Fourth floor  
Unliftable jinxes, hexes, incorrectly applied charms, etc.

VISITORS TEAROOM / HOSPITAL SHOP - Fifth floor

IF YOU ARE UNSURE WHERE TO GO, INCAPABLE OF NORMAL SPEECH OR UNABLE TO REMEMBER WHY YOU ARE HERE, OUR WELCOME WITCH WILL BE PLEASED TO HELP

A very old, stopped wizard with a hearing trumpet had shuffled to the front of the queue now. 

'I'm here to see Broderick Border,' he wheezed.

'Ward forty-nine, but I'm afraid you're wasting your time' said the witch dismissively. 'He's completely addled, you know, thinks he's a teapot. Next!'

A harassed-looking wizard was holding his small daughter tightly by the ankle while she flapped around his head using the immensely large, feathery wings that had sprouted right out through the back of her romper suit.

'Fourth floor,' said the witch, in a bored voice, without asking and the man disappeared through the double doors beside the desk, holding his daughter like an oddly shaped balloon. Next Mrs Weasley moved forward to the desk. 

'Hello,' she said, 'my son, Percy Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us -'

'Percy Weasley?' said the witch, running her finger down a long list in front of her. 'Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn Ward.'

'Thank you,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Come on, you lot.'

They followed her through the double doors and along the narrow corridor beyond, which was lined with more portraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up on the ceiling, looking like giant soapsuds. More witches and wizards in lime-green robes walked in and out of the doors they passed; a foul-smelling yellow gas wafted into the passageway as they passed one door, and every now and then they heard distant wailing. They climbed a flight of stairs and entered the Creature-Induced Injuries corridor, where the second door on the right bore the words: Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites. Underneath this was a card in a brass holder on which had been handwritten: Healer-in Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck. Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye.

'We'll wait outside, Molly,' Tonks said. 'Percy won't want too many visitors at once ... it ought to be just the family first.'

Mad-Eye growled his approval of this idea and set himself with his back against the corridor wall, his magical eye spinning in all directions. Harry drew back, too, but Mrs Weasley reached out a hand and pushed him through the door saying, 'Don't be silly, Harry. Percy wants to thank you, dear.' 

The ward was small and rather dingy, as the only window was small and set high in the wall facing the door. Most of the light came from more shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of panelled oak and there was a portrait of a rather vicious-looking wizard on the wall, captioned Urquhart Ratharrow 1612-1697. Inventor of the Entrail-expelling Curse.

There were only three patients, Percy was occupying the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tiny window, Harry was pleased and relieved to see that he was propped up on several pillows and scribbling away by the solitary ray of sunlight falling on to his bed. He looked up as they walked towards him and, seeing who it was, beamed. Mr Weasley was snoozing in the chair beside him.

'Hello!' Percy said, tidying his notes together. 'He's just nodded off,' he said pointing to his father.

'How are you, dear?' asked Mrs Weasley, bending down to kiss his cheek and looking anxiously into his face. 'You're still looking a bit peaky.'

'I feel absolutely fine,' said Percy brightly. 'If they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go back to work.' 

'Well it doesn't look like being in hospital can stop you,' said Mrs Weasley, pointing at the notes he'd been writing.

'Well, Madam Bones relies on me mother, I have to keep up with my duties in the Ministry.'

'Why can't they take the bandages off, Perce?' asked Fred.

'Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try,' said Percy grimly, as Mrs Weasley conjured up some chairs for them all to sit in. 'It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open. They're sure they'll find an antidote, though - they say they've had much worse cases than mine. I just have to take a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour.'

'So, you going to tell us what happened, Perce?' asked Fred. pulling his chair closer to the bed.

'Well there's not much to tell,' said Percy dismissively. 'I got bitten by a snake didn't I?'

'But where were you?' asked George. 'What were you doing.

'That's not your concern,' Percy said sharply. 'Do you know, father was telling me they caught Willy Widdershins again - he was the one behind all those regurgitating toilets over the summer.'

'Were you guarding the weapon that You-Know-Who's after?' George said.

'George, be quiet!' snapped Mrs Weasley.

'This time,' said Percy, ignoring his brother. 'He's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles. Clearly the fine he got last time did nothing to stop him. I think father's hoping he gets a stint in Azkaban this time. Apparently two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St Mungo's for emergency bone re-growth and memory modification.'

'Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?' asked Fred, looking at Percy for a reaction. 'A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?'

'That's enough,' said Mrs Weasley so loudly Mr Weasley woke up and fell out of his chair.

'Molly! When did you get here?' he beamed as he straightened his glasses.

'Oh, Arthur, I'm sorry we woke you. See what you've done?' she said, clipping Fred and George around their ears. 'Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Percy, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside,' she added to her children and Harry. 'You can come and say goodbye afterwards. Go on.'

They trooped back into the corridor. Mad-Eye and Tonks went in and closed the door of the ward behind them. Fred raised his eyebrows.

'Fine,' he said coolly, rummaging in his pockets, 'be like that. Don't tell us anything.'

'Looking for these?' said George, holding out what looked like a tangle of flesh-coloured string. 

'You read my mind,' said Fred, grinning. "Let's see if St Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?'

He and George disentangled the string and separated five Extendable Ears from each other. Fred and George handed them around. Harry hesitated to take one.

'Go on. Harry, take it! You saved Percy's life. If anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him, it's you.'

Grinning in spite of himself, Harry took the end of the string and inserted it into his ear as the twins had done.

'OK, go!' Fred whispered. The flesh-coloured strings wriggled like long skinny worms and snaked under the door. At first, Harry could hear nothing, then he jumped as he heard Tonks whispering as clearly as though she were standing right beside him. The twins had improved the Ears greatly since they had leant him the prototype last year 

'They searched the whole area but couldn't find the snake anywhere. It just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Percy ... but You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?' she said.

'I reckon he sent it as a lookout,' growled Moody, 'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Percy hadn't been there the beast would've had a lot more time to look around. So, Potter says he saw it all happen?' 

'Yes,' said Mrs Weasley. She sounded rather uneasy. 'You know Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this.'

'Yeah, well,' said Moody, 'there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that.'

'Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning,' whispered Mrs Weasley. 

''Course he's worried,' growled Moody. 'The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realise what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him -'

Harry pulled the Extendable Ear out of his own, his heart hammering very fast and heat rushing up his face. He looked around at the others. They were all staring at him, the strings still trailing from their ears, looking suddenly fearful.

Harry couldn't work out what was worse. If he had been the snake that attacked Percy, or if Voldemort was possessing him.


	88. Christmas at Trompore Square

Was this why Dumbledore would no longer meet Harry's eyes? Did he expect to see Voldemort staring out of them, afraid, perhaps, that their vivid green might turn suddenly to scarlet, with catlike slits for pupils? Harry remembered how the snakelike face of Voldemort had once forced itself out of the back of Professor Quirrell's head and ran his hand over the back of his own, wondering what it would feel like if Voldemort burst out of his skull.

He felt dirty, contaminated, as though he were carrying some deadly germ, unworthy to sit on the Underground train back from the hospital with innocent, clean people whose minds and bodies were free of the taint of Voldemort ... he had not merely seen the snake, he had been the snake, he knew it now. A truly terrible thought then occurred to him, a memory bobbing to the surface of his mind, one that made his insides writhe and squirm like serpents.

_What's he after, apart from followers?_

_Stuff he can only get by stealth... like a weapon ..._

_Something he didn't have last time ..._

I'm the weapon, Harry thought, and it was as though poison were pumping through his veins, chilling him, bringing him out in a sweat as he swayed with the train through the dark tunnel. I'm the one Voldemort's trying to use, that's why they've got guards around me everywhere I go, it's not for my protection, it's for other people's, only it's not working, they can't have someone on me all the time at Hogwarts, even if they have Kingsley there under the pretence of being a teacher. I did attack Percy Weasley last night, it was me. Voldemort made me do it and he could be inside me, listening to my thoughts right now -

'Are you all right, Harry, dear? whispered Mrs Weasley, leaning across Ginny to speak to him as the train rattled along through a dark tunnel. 'You don't look very well. Are you feeling sick?'

They were all watching him. He shook his head violently and stared up at an advertisement for home insurance.

'Harry, dear, are you sure you're all right?' said Mrs Weasley in a worried voice as they walked across the green in the middle of Trompore Square. 'You look ever so pale, are you sure you slept this morning? You go upstairs and to bed right now, you can have a couple of hours of sleep before diner, all right?'

He nodded, here was a ready-made excuse not to talk to any of the others, which was precisely what he wanted, so when she opened the front door he hurried straight up the stairs and into his bedroom. Here, he began to pace up and down, between the bed and the writing desk, his brain teeming and seething with questions and ever more dreadful ideas.

How had he become a snake in his sleep? Perhaps Voldemort was an Animagus too ... yes, thought Harry, that would fit, he would turn into a snake of course ... they had Parseltongue in common, after all ... and when he's possessing me, then we both transform... that still doesn't explain how I got to London and back to my bed in the space of about five minutes ... but then Voldemort's about the most powerful wizard in the world, apart from Dumbledore, it's probably no problem at all to him to transport people like that. 

And then, with a terrible stab of panic, he thought, but this is insane - if Voldemort's possessing me, I'm giving him a clear view into the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix right now! He'll know who's in the Order and where Narcissa and Draco are; and I've heard loads of stuff I shouldn't have, everything Sirius told me the first night I was here.

There was only one thing for it; he would have to leave Trompore Square straightaway. He would spend Christmas at Hogwarts without the others, which would keep them safe over she holidays at least ... but no that wouldn't do, there were still pienty of people at Hogwarts to maim and injure. What if it was Seamas or Dean next time? He stopped his pacing. A leaden sensation was settling in the pit of his stomach. He had no alternative he was going to have to return to Privet Drive, cut himself off from other wizards entirely

Well, if he had to do it, he thought, there was no point hanging around. Trying with all his might not to think how the Dursleys were going to react when they found him on their doorstep six months earlier than they had expected, he strode over to his trunk slammed the lid shut and locked it, then glanced around automatically for Hedwig before remembering that she was still at Hogwarts - well, her cage would be one less thing to carry - he seized one end of his trunk and had dragged it halfway towards the door. Before he could unlock the door though, a body floated through it.

'What on earth are you doing?' Uncle Alphard asked. 'You're not planning on leaving are you?'

'I can't stay,' said Harry. 'I put everyone in too much danger.'

'I've never heard such rubbish!'

Harry was wasting precious time talking to Uncle Alphard. Besides he was a ghost, it wasn't like he could stop him from going anywhere. Harry took a breath and plunged himself through Uncle Alphard and turned the key in his door as his body turned to ice.

'Don't be so stupid, Harry, m'boy. My great-grandfather has given me a message for you from Dumbledore. You're to stay here.'

'Why?' said Harry eagerly, dropping the end of his trunk 'Why does he want me to stay? What else did he say?'

'I'm afraid that's the only message I've got for you,' said Uncle Alphard. 'Surely that's enough?'

Harry's temper rose to the surface like a snake rearing from long grass. He was exhausted, he was confused beyond measure he had experienced terror, relief, then terror again in the last twelve hours and still Dumbledore did not want to talk to him!

"So that's it, is it? he said loudly, 'Stay put? That's all anyone could tell me after I got attacked by those Dementors, too! Just stay where you are while the grown-ups sort it out, Harry! We won't bother telling you anything, though, because your tiny little brain might not be able to cope with it!'

'Well I have to say, I think you're ever so slightly over-reacting there, Harry, m'boy. I think we both know that Professor Dumbledore has your safety as a priority in these situations. Now what's going through your head, hmm? Why are you so pent up over this? You don't think you're to blame for the attack on young Percy, do you now?'

Harry sank onto his trunk.

'You do, don't you?' said Uncle Alphard, floating down to be face to face with Harry, causing his bottom half to disappear beneath the carpet. 'Listen to me, Harry. Running away can be useful. My nephew ran away from home when he was sixteen. But he had your father's family to run to, people who cared about him. Not to mention, my money. But the people who care about you are here, in this house. And no matter what you might have dreamt, or what your Animagus form might be - yes, I know about that, your godfather's not as slick as he thinks he is - you were not that snake that attacked Percy, all right?'

Harry wiped his eyes and nodded.

'Good! Now, get some rest, m'boy, and talk to your friends when you're rested. I know they'll want to talk to you too.'

With that Uncle Alphard disappeared fully beneath the carpet leaving Harry alone. Despite this he suddenly felt less alone than he had all day. He dragged his runk back to the loot of his bed, then threw himself face down the moth-caten covers, his eyes shut, his body heavy and aching. He felt as though he had journeyed for miles and miles ... he was so tired ...

He was scared to sleep yet he did not know how long he could fight it ... Dumbledore had told him to stay that must mean he was allowed to sleep but he was scared ... what if it happened again ... 

He was sinking into shadows ...

It was as though a film in his head had been waiting to start. He was walking down a deserted corridor towards a plain black door, past rough stone walls, torches, and an open doorway on to a flight of stone steps leading downstairs on the left ...

He reached the black door but could not open it ... he stood gazing at it, desperate for entry something he wanted with all his heart lay beyond a prize beyond his dreams ... if only his scar would stop prickling, then he would be able to think more clearly ...

'Harry,' said Ron's voice, from far, far away, 'Mum says dinner's ready, but she'll save you something if you want to stay in bed.' Harry opened his eyes, but Ron had already left the room.

He doesn't want to be on his own with me, Harry thought. Not after what he heard Moody say. He supposed none of them would want him there any more, now that they knew what was inside him.

But then he thought back to what Uncle Alphard had said. These were the people who cared about him. These were his friends.

Harry dragged himself out of his bed and made his way downstairs to the dining room.

'Hello, Harry, dear,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Are you feeling better now? You look less peaky.'

'Yes, thanks,' Harry mumbled. He looked at the table, trying to decide where to sit. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Narcissa, Remus and Sirius were sat at one end, Ron, Ginny, Bill and the twins at the other end. Ginny said something to her brothers who all got up and moved closer to their parents. Ginny beckoned Harry to sit with her away from the others. Ron gave him a sad half-smile.

Harry had been expecting this. Ever since the attack on Percy he knew that Ginny wouldn't want anything else to do with him. They were about to break up. Feeling a deep pit in his stomach that was nothing to do with his hunger, he went to take a seat next to her. Instantly a shepherds pie appeared on his plate. Clearly Winky had arrived back at Trompore Square.

Harry looked at Ginny. She had been crying; her eyes were red.

'I'm sorry,' she said, looking down at her plate.

'It's OK,' said Harry. 'I understand -'

'It's just with Percy getting attacked -'

'I know - he's your brother -'

'I just needed time to process -'

'I don't blame you -'

'And your Animagus form -'

'I know, I know -'

'After what Moody said -'

'We had a good run -'

'And obviously - wait what? What do you mean we had a good run?'

'Well, you're breaking up with me, aren't you?'

'Why would I be breaking up with you?!'

Harry felt himself go hot. He was aware that the rest of the table had momentarily turned their gaze towards him and Ginny her outburst.

'Well -' he began awkwardly, 'because - well - because I might have attacked Percy in my sleep?'

'Harry James Potter, you are the stupidest person I've ever met - and I grew up with Ron. I'm trying to tell you that I understand how you're feeling. I'm probably the only one who does.'

'What do you mean?' asked Harry, perplexed.

'Well who else around this table has been possessed by You-Know-Who?' Ginny said in exasperation.

Of course. In her first year at Hogwarts she had come into contact with Voldemort's school diary which had possessed her and caused her to open the Chamber of Secrets on his behalf.

Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him.

'I forgot,' he said.

'Lucky you,' said Ginny coolly

'I'm sorry,' Harry said, and he meant it. 'So ... so, do you think I'm being possessed, then?'

'Well, can you remember everything you've been doing? Ginny asked. 'Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?'

Harry racked his brains.

'No,' he said

'Then You-Know-Who hasn't ever possessed you,' said Ginny simply. 'When he did it to me, I couldn't remember what I'd been doing for hours at a time. I'd find myself somewhere and not know how I got there.'

Harry hardly dared believe her, yet his heart was lightening almost in spite of himself. 

'That dream I had about Percy and the snake, though ...' Harry lowered his voice to a whisper, 'it is my Animagus form, after all.'

'You've had dreams like this before,' Ginny said. 'You saw what You-Know-Who was up to last year.'

'This was different,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'I was inside that snake. I was the snake ... what if Voldemort somehow transported me to London?'

'But Ron saw you in your bed. You can't have been in two places at once. Even You-Know-Who couldn't manage that.'

What Ginny was saying was not only comforting, it made sense. Without really thinking, he shovelled a forkful of shepherds pie hungrily into his mouth.

I'm not the weapon after all, thought Harry. His heart swelled with happiness and relief.

Ginny reached out a hand and took his own, squeezing it tenderly. He looked up at her, and she smiled.

She wasn't dumping him after all.

*

Everybody spent the following morning putting up Christmas decorations. How could he have dreamed of returning to Privet Drive for Christmas? Sirius's delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. Singing carols all day long, he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts. Whenever he wasn't away from the house training for whatever job he had applied for to help the Order, he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, decorating with their help so that by the time they all went to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognisable. The chandeliers were hung with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the carpets, a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, was erected in the Entrance Hall.

The evening after Ginny had brought Harry out of his slump, Narcissa went to pick up Draco from King's Cross station. Ten minutes later the doorbell rang. Sirius opened the door and in walked Neville's Gran, followed by Neville himself and Hermione.

'What are you doing here?' Harry asked them. 'I thought you were skiing with your mum and dad, Hermione?'

'Well, to tell the truth, skiings not really my thing,' said Hermione. 'So, I've come here for Christmas.' There was snow in her hair. 'Mum and Dad are a bit disappointed, but I've told them that everyone who is serious about the exams is staying at Hogwarts to study. They want me to do well, they'll understand.'

'And it's just me and Gran this year. Normally Great-Uncle Algie joins us Christmas Day, but this year he's in Borneo.'

'Where are you trunks?' asked Ginny, causing Hermione to frown.

'Brooler has already brought them here. She took them from the station,' Neville said.

'Brooler's here?' said Ron.

Brooler was Neville's Gran's house-elf, though Harry and his friends had never met her.

'She's probably gone back home now,' Neville said. 'She's part of the old fashioned school of house-elves who feel it is their job not to be seen doing their jobs, but to just do them.'

'Shall we go upstairs?' Hermione asked, looking around the Entrance Hall. 'Talk with a bit of privacy?'

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Draco and Ginny traipsed up to Harry's room. Hermione and Ginny made themselves comfortable on the bed, Ron and Draco hopped up onto the dresser, Harry took the chair at the writing desk, and Neville brought his chair across from his room.

'How're you feeling?' asked Hermione.

'Fine,' said Harry.

'Ron told us what happened,' said Hermione. 'Merlin brought his letter this morning. You seem in better spirits than I was expecting, I have to say.'

'Yeah, well I put him right last night,' said Ginny. 'He knows he didn't attack Percy, not did he get possessed by You-Know-Who.'

'Good,' said Hermione.

'How's Percy?' asked Neville.

'Yeah, he's going all right,' said Ron. 'He'll probably still be in St Mungo's for Christmas, but we'll go and visit him I reckon. Take him his presents.'

Harry noticed Neville twitch at this, but conversation had moved on to the fact the Lucius Malfoy had tried to accost Narcissa and Draco on platform nine and three quarters again.

*

Harry awoke on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents at the foot of his bed.

Hermione had given him a book that resembled a diary except that every time he opened a page it said aloud things like: _Do it today or later you'll pay!!_  
Ron had given him an enormous box of Every-Flavour Beans; Ginny had bought him a musky cologne. Harry thought it would go nicely with the perfume he had got her - and which Ron had oddly also bought for Hermione. Harry himself had played it safe a got Hermione a new book on Numerology he remembered she had mentioned wanting.

Draco had gifted him a set of silver scales for more accuracy in his potion making and Neville had got him a multipurpose knife with his initials engraved, to match.

Sirius and Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had superb, moving colour illustrations of all the counter-jinxes and hexes it described. Harry flicked through the first volume eagerly. Tonks's present was a small, working model of a Firebolt, which Harry watched fly around the room. From Mr and Mrs Weasley he received the usual hand-knitted jumper and some mince pies, and from Dobby a truly dreadful painting that Harry suspected had been done by the elf himself. He had turned it upside-down to see whether looked better that way. He decided that it did not.

Once they had eaten their Christmas lunch, which Professor Black had joined them for, the Weasleys were planning to pay another visit to St Mungo's, this time with the Longbottoms and escorted by Mad-Eye. 

It turned out that Neville and his Granalways visited St Mungo's on Christmas Day.

'Why's that?' asked Ron. But Harry had already realised why. In their third year Neville had confided in Harry that his parents had been tortured to insanity by a group of Death Eaters. Harry realised they must be in St Mungo's and that's who Neville and his Gran were going to visit.

'What's this?' said Mrs Longbottom sharply. 'Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?'

This confirmed Harry's suspicions. Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Harry could not remember ever feeling sorrier for anyone.

'He's spoken to me about it,' Harry offered.

'Well, that's something,' said Mrs Longbottom haughtily. 'It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know! You should be proud Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!'

'I'm not ashamed,' said Neville, very faintly, looking ahead, only at Harry.

'Well, you've got a funny way of showing it,' said Mrs Longbottom. 'My son and his wife,' she said, turning haughtily to Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Draco 'were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers.'

Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron looked mortified.

'They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community,' Mrs Longbottom went on. 'Highly gifted, the pair of them.'

'It was my aunt and uncle, wasn't it?' said Draco softly.

Mrs Longbottom's eyes flashed as if she had been trying to ignore this fact since she had first set foot into number nineteen Trompore Square this summer.

'Yes,' she said in a strained voice. 'The Lestranges were responsible. Your mother's sister Bellatrix, her husband Rodolphus, his brother Rabastan, and young Barty Crouch Jr. All of whom are rightfully in Azkaban right now, though it's more than they deserve. I trust your mother when she says that she had nothing to do with the Death Eaters, beyond being sisters with one, and marrying one. I trust her when she says that her opinions on blood purity and other ideals perpetuated by the Death Eaters have changed completely. Dumbledore clearly trusts her and has made her home the Order's headquarters and I trust Dumbledore, therefore, I must trust your mother. I bear no ill will towards her or yourself.'

Mrs Longbottom looked Draco dead in the eye as she said this.

Mundungus turned up in time for Christmas pudding and trifle, having managed to 'borrow a car for the occasion', as the Underground did not run on Christmas Day. The car, which Harry doubted very much had been taken with the consent of its owner, had been enlarged with a spell like the Weasleys' old Ford Anglia had once been. Although normally proportioned outside, ten people with Mundungus driving were able to fit into it quite comfortably. Mr Weasley found it fascinating, though Mrs Weasley hesitated before getting inside - Harry knew her disapproval of Mundungus was battling with her dislike of travelling without magic - but, finally, the cold outside and her children's pleading triumphed, and she setled herself into the back seat between Fred and Bill with good grace. 

Harry, Hermione and Draco spent the afternoon playing games with Sirius, who kept cheating.

'You never could win outright, could you, Sirius?' said Professor Black after an Ace he had hidden up his sleeve exploded. 'No wonder you bought that Firebolt for Ron. Didn't do much good though did it?'

'Because we won that match you mean?' said Sirius, happy to taunt his brother over Quidditch.

'No, because Ron didn't save any goals did he?'

'Draco,' said Sirius with a grin, 'just remind me what me brother got you for Christmas.'

'A Firebolt,' Draco said, blushing slightly.

Professor Black rolled his eyes.

'I'm simply levelling the playing field,' he said. 'Draco would have caught that Snitch if he was on a faster broom.'

'Oh, yes, I'm sure he would have,' laughed Sirius.

Before the argument could get any more heated the Weasleys and Longbottoms returned, bringing positive news of Percy.

'They think he'll be out by the end of next week,' Mrs Weasley beamed.

'But that's not the real news!' Ron said to Harry, Hermione and Draco as he Ginny and Neville joined them at their end of the dining table. 'Guess who's in the same ward as Neville's mum and dad?'

'Someone we know?' asked Harry.

'Yeah!' said Ron.

'How is this the thing you're most excited about?' Ginny asked Ron. 'Neville saved someone's life today and your fixated on the fact that we saw Professor Lockhart!'

'No way!' said Harry at the same time as Ron said, 'Why'd you give it away for?'

'What do you mean Neville saved someone's life?' Hermione asked as Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother.

'I wouldn't say I saved his life,' said Neville blushing. 'I'm sure the Healers would've noticed eventually...'

'Well,' Ginny said, 'some guy on the ward got a plant as a Christmas gift, but Neville recognised it as Devil's Snare. Who knows what might've happened. Could've strangled him if Neville hadn't pointed it out.'

'Nice spot, Neville,' said Hermione beaming.

'Thanks,' Neville said with a smile.

'Anyway,' said Ron, trying to get back to his tale, 'Merry Christmas, Harry.'

He passed Harry a photograph. Smiling back at him was his old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lockhart, beaming toothily and waving at Harry. Lockhart himself had autographed the photograph, though in disjointed childish writing, a far cry from the loopy signature that Harry remembered when he taught them three years ago.

'He's not got a clue who he is,' said Ron. 'It's quite sad really. Here you are, Draco, I've got one for you too!'


	89. Hagrid's Tale

The day before they were due to return to Hogwarts Professor Black asked Harry to meet him in the reception room. As Harry's godfather Sirius decided it was within his right to join them. When Harry entered the room Kreacher was pouring them each a cup of tea, into black china cups decorated with emerald snakes.

'Thank you for meeting with me, Harry,' said Professor Black, his voice as level as ever. 'Please, take a seat. I have been speaking with Professor Dumbledore and we both agree that this term it would be wise for you to learn Occlumency.'

'What's that?' said Harry blankly.

'Occlumency is a branch of magic dedicated to protecting the mind from external penetration,' said Professor Black.

Harry's heart began to pump very fast indeed. Protecting the mind from external penetration? But he was not being possessed, they had all agreed on that ...

'Why do I have to study Occlu - thing?' he blurted out.

'Oh-clue-men-see,' Professor Black enunciated. He paused for a moment as if considering how to answer Harry's question. Finally he said, 'The Headmaster and I both believe that you and Voldemort share a mental link that was forged the night he tried to kill you as a baby. When your mind is relaxed, this causes you to share in the Voldemort's thoughts and feelings. The vision you had of Percy's attack, for example.'

'So why stop it?' asked Harry. 'If it hadn't been for my dream Percy would be dead now.'

'Because,' said Professor Black evenly, 'it is only a matter of time before the Voldemort notices the link and uses it against you.'

'Who's teaching?' Sirius asked.

'I am,' said Professor Black, his black, emotionless eyes still locked on Harry.

'Why not Dumbledore?' asked Harry.

'Professor Dumbledore has other things to attend to. This is a job he has delegated to me. I assure you, I am most accomplished at Occlumency.'

Harry looked at Sirius, who nodded his head slowly.

'No funny business, Reggie,' Sirius said, staring intently at his brother. 'If I even hear a whiff of abuse, nothing will stop me from getting into that castle and finding you in that dank little dungeon you call home.'

'I assure you, dear brother' said Professor Black, finally turning his gaze away from Harry to meet his Sirius's eyes, 'no harm shall come to Harry whilst he is in my care. Friday night, six o'clock, my office,' Professor Black said as he stood up. 'Don't be late. Come, Kreacher, it is time we went.'

Professor Black left the room, followed by Kreacher, bowing at Sirius and Harry as he went.

'I'm serious, Harry,' Sirius said as they went to join everyone else in the dining room, 'any trouble and I'm right there.'

Mrs Weasley had created a veritable feast for their final night at Trompore Square. It was a particularly special occasion as Percy, who had been discharged two days previously, was returning to work the next day as well. Mrs Weasley had argued this was too early, but Percy was insistent that he get back to work as soon as possible.

At dinner Harry told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny under his voice about having to take Occlumency lessons with Professor Black. Neville and Draco had already returned to Hogwarts that morning on the Hogwarts Express, but they were to return to Hogwarts on the Knight Bus the following day, giving them an extra night with Percy.

'Dumbledore wants to stop you having those dreams about Voldemort,' said Hermione at once. 'Well, you won't be sorry not to have them any more, will you?'

*

After a hurried breakfast the next morning, they all pulled on jackets and scarves against the chilly grey January morning. Remus and Tonks (today heavily disguised as a tall, tweedy looking woman with iron-grey hair) were to escort them on this occasion. Sirius had left early in the morning, as part of his training for whatever he was doing to become a more useful member of the Order.

The door of number nineteen slammed shut behind them and they found themselves in the icy winter air. They followed Remus down the front steps. As he reached the pavement, Harry looked round. Number nineteen was shrinking rapidly as those on ether side of it stretched sideways, squeezing it out of sight. One blink later, it had gone.

'Come on, the quicker we get on the bus the better,' said Tonks, and Harry thought there was nervousness in the glance she threw around the square. Remus flung out his right arm.

BANG

A violently purple, triple-decker bus had appeared out of thin air in front of them, narrowly avoiding the nearest lamppost, which jumped backwards out of its way.

A thin, pimply, jug-eared youth in a purple uniform leapt down on to the pavement and said, 'Welcome to the -'

'Yes, yes, we know, thank you,' said Tonks swiftly. On, on, get on -'

And she shoved Harry forwards towards the steps, past the conductor, who goggled at Harry as he passed.

'Ere - it's 'Arry -!'

'If you shout his name I will curse you into oblivion,' muttered Tonks menacingly, now shunting Ginny and Hermione forwards.

'I've always wanted to go on this thing,' said Ron happily, joining Harry on board and looking around. It had been evening the last time Harry had travelled by Knight Bus and its three decks had been full of brass bedsteads. Now, in the early morning, it was crammed with an assortment of mismatched chairs grouped haphazardly around windows. Some of these appeared to have fallen over when the bus stopped abruptly in Trompore Square; a few witches and wizards were still get ting to their feet, grumbling, and somebody's shopping bag had slid the length of the bus: an unpleasant mixture of frogspawn, cockroaches and custard creams was scattered all over the floor.

'Looks like we'll have to split up,' said Tonks briskly, looking around for empty chairs. 'Fred, George and Ginny, if you just take those seats at the back ... Remus can stay with you.'

She, Harry, Ron and Hermione proceeded up to the very top deck, where there were two unoccupied chairs at the very front of the bus and two at the back. Stan Shunpike, the conductor, followed Harry and Ron eagerly to the back. Heads turned as Harry passed and, when he sat down, he saw all the faces flick back to the front again.

As Harry and Ron handed Stan eleven Sickles each, the bus set off again, swaying ominously. It rumbled around Grimmauld Place weaving on and off the pavement, then, with another tremendous BANG, they were all flung backwards; Ron's chair toppled right over and Merlin, who had been on his lap, burst out of his cage and flew to perch on one of the rails that ran the length of the bus. He ruffled his feather and screeched reproachfully at Ron. Harry, who had narrowly avoided falling by seizing a candle bracket, looked out of the window; they were now speeding down what appeared to be a motorway.

'Just outside Birmingham,' said Stan happily, answering Harry's unasked question as Ron struggled up from the floor. 'You keepin' well, then, 'Arry?'

'Wr, yeah, thanks,' said Harry as Stan handed over their tickets and continued to gaze, enthralled, at him. The Knight Bus swayed alarmingly, overtaking a line of cars on the inside. Looking towards the front of the bus, Harry saw Hermione cover her eyes with her hands.

BANG

Chairs slid backwards again as the Knight Bus jumped from the Birmingham motorway to a quiet country lane full of hairpin bends. Hedgerows on either side of the road were leaping out of their way as they mounted the verges. From here they moved to a main street in the middle of a busy town, then to a viaduct surrounded by tall hills, then to a windswept road between high-rise flats, each time with a loud BANG

'I've changed my mind,' muttered Ron, picking himself up from the floor for the sixth time, 'I never want to ride on this thing again.'

'Listen, it's Hogwarts stop alter this,' said Stan brightly, swaying towards them. 'That bossy woman up front 'oo got on with you, she's given us a little tip to move you up the queue. We're just gonna let Madam Marsh off first, though -' there was a retching sound from downstairs, followed by a horrible spattering noise '- she's not feeling 'er best.'

A few minutes later, the Knight Bus screeched to a halt outside a small pub, which squeezed itself out of the way to avoid a collision. They could hear Stan ushering the unfortunate Madam Marsh out of the bus and the relieved murmurings of her fellow passengers on the second deck. The bus moved on again, gathering speed, until -

BANG

They were rolling through a snowy Hogsmeade. Harry caught a glimpse of the Hog's Head down its side street, the severed boar's head sign creaking in the wintry wind. Flecks of snow hit the large window at the front of the bus. At last they rolled to a halt outside the gates to Hogwarts.

Lupin and Tonks helped them off the bus with their luggage, then got off to say goodbye. Harry glanced up at the three decks of the Knight Bus and saw all the passengers staring down at them, noses flat against the windows

'You'll be safe once you're in the grounds,' said Tonks, casting a careful eye around at the deserted road. 'Have a good term, OK?'

'Look after yourselves,' said Remus, shaking hands all round and reaching Harry last. 'And listen ..' he lowered his voice while the rest of them exchanged last-minute goodbyes with Tonks, 'Harry, trust me when I say that Professor Black is a superb Occlumens and we all want you to learn to protect yourself, so work hard, all right?'

'Yeah, all right,' said Harry heavily, looking up into Remus's prematurely lined face. 'See you, then.'

The six of them struggled up the slippery drive towards the castle, dragging their trunks. As they crossed the grounds Harry saw something that instantly made him glad to be back at Hogwarts. The lights in Hagrid's cabin were on. Hagrid was back.

*

As soon as they dropped htheir trunks off in their dormitories Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, joined by Neville who had been waiting for their return in the common room, dashed through the portrait hole and hurried excitedly back through the castle, across the grounds and to Hagrid's cabin, where Harry banged on his wooden front door.

'Hagrid, it's us!' Harry called through the keyhole.

'Shoulda known!' said a gruff voice.

They beamed at each other: they could tell by Hagrid's voice that he was pleased.

''Bin waitin' fer yeh the ge' back ... out the way, Fang ... out the way, yeh dozy dog ...'

The bolt was drawn back, the door creaked open and Hagrid's head appeared in the gap. Hermione screamed.

'Merlin's beard, keep it down!' Hagrid said. 'Well, get in, get in!' he said and the five of them squeezed past Hagrid into the house.

'I'm sorry,' said Hermione, 'it's just - oh, Hagrid!'

Hagrid's hands and face were a mass of scarring surrounded by yellow and green bruising.

'What happened to you?' Harry demanded, while Fang danced around them all, trying to lick their faces.

'Told yeh, nuthin' said Hagrid firmly. 'Want a cuppa?'

'Come off it,' said Ron, 'you're in a right state!'

'I'm tellin' yeh, I'm fine,' said Hagrid, straightening up and turning to beam at them all. 'Yeh shoulda seen me before Madam Pomfrey sorted me out. Blimey, it's good ter see yeh again - had good Christmas, did yeh?'

'So, are you going to tell us what happened to you?' Harry asked.

'Can't, Harry. Top secret. More'n me jobs worth ter tell yeah that.'

'Did the giants beat you up, Hagrid?' asked Hermione quietly.

Hagrid dropped the teapot he was carrying.

'Giants?' said Hagrid, as Ginny repaired the teapot with a wave of her wand, 'who said anything about giants? Who yeh bin talkin' to? Who's told yeh what I've - who's said I've bin - eh?'

'We guessed,' said Hermione apologetically

'Oh, yeh did, did yeh?' said Hagrid, surveying her sternly.

'It was kind of obvious,' said Ron. Harry and Neville nodded. Hagrid glared at them, then snorted and strode over to the kettle, which was now whistling.

'Never known kids like you lot fer knowin' more'n yeh oughta,' he muttered, splashing boiling water into the newly repaired teapot. 'An I'm not complimentin' yeh, neither. Nosy, somed call it. Interferin'

But his beard twitched.

'So you have been to look for gants? said Harry, grinning as Hagrid set bucket sized mugs in front of each of them and poured tea into each.

'Yeah, all righ',' he grunted, 'I have.'

'And you found them?' said Hermione in a hushed voice.

'Well they're not that difficult to find, ter be honest,' said Hagrid. 'Pretty big see.'

'Weren't you scared?' asked Neville.

'We were prepared,' Hagrid answered.

'So Madame Maxime went with you then?' said Ginny.

'Yeah, tha's righ',' said Hagrid, and a softened expression appeared on his face. 'Yeah, it was jus' the pair of us. An I'll tell yeh this, she's not afraid of roughin' it, Olympe. Yeh know, she's a fine, well dressed woman, an' knowin' where we was goin' I wondered 'ow she'd feel abou' clamberin' over boulders an sleepin' in caves an tha', bu she never complained once.'

'Where did you find them?' asked Ron.

'Mountains,' said Hagrid unhelpfully

'So why don't Muggles-?'

'They do,' said Hagrid darkly. 'Only their deaths are always put down teh mountaineerin' accidents, aren' they?'

'Come on, Hagrid, tell us what you've been up to!' said Ron. 'Tell us about being attacked by the giants and Harry can tell you about being attacked by the Dementors -'

'I know all abou' that,' growled Hagrid. 'Always said they were nasty things.'

'C'mon, Hagrid,' said Ginny, 'tell us what happened. We're not going to leave until you do, and we've got lessons tomorrow morning. You don't want me to sleep through Transfiguration do you?'

'Oh, alright,' Hagrid said gruffly. 'Well, we set off righ' after term ended.

'You knew where you were going, then?' Harry said. You know where the giants were?'

'Well, Dumbledore knew, an' he told us,' said Hagrid.

'Are they hidden?' asked Ron. 'Is it a secret, where they are?'

'Not really,' said Hagrid, shaking his shaggy head. 'It's jus' that mos' wizards aren' bothered where they are, long as it's a good long way away. But where they are's very difficult ter get ter, fer humans anyway, so we needed Dumbledore's instructions. Took us abou' three weeks ter get there -'

'Three weeks?' said Ron, as though he had never heard of a journey lasting such a ridiculously long time 'But - why couldn't you just grab a Portkey or something?'

There was an odd expression in Hagrid's eyes as he surveyed Ron, it was almost pitying. 'We're bein' watched, Ron,' he said gruffly.

'What d'you mean?'

'You-Know-Who o' course,' said Hagrid. 'He's got spies ev'rywhere.'

'So you couldn't use magic to get there?' asked Ron, looking thunderstruck, 'you had to act like Muggles all the way?'

'Well, not exactly all the way,' said Hagrid cagily. 'We jus had ter be careful, 'cause Olympe an' me, we stick out a bit -' Ron made a stifled noise somewhere between a snort and a snilf and hastily took a gulp of tea, '- so we're not hard ter follow. We was pretendin' we was goin on holiday together, so we got inter France an' we made like we were headin fer where Olympe's school is. Mind you, once we realised we weren't being tailed we chanced a bit o' magic an' it wasn' a bad journey. I had a sligh' disagreement with a vampire in a pub in Minsk, bu' apart from that couldn't'a bin smoother.

'An then we reached the place, an we started trekkin' up through ihe mountains, lookin' fer signs of 'em ...'

'We had ter lay off the magic once we got near 'em. Partly cause they don like wizards an' we didn' want ter put their backs up too soon, an' partly 'cause Dumbledore had told us ter be very careful of drawin' attention ter ourselves as we got nearer in case there was Death Eaters around.'

Hagrid paused for a long draught of tea.

'Go on!' said Harry urgently.

'Well, we certainly found the Death Eaters - luckily before they found us.'

'What happened?' said Neville, his face white with anxiety.

'Well, we 'eard them as we was crossing the border between Latvia an' Russia. We preferred travelin' at nigh' - less people aroun' to catch the attention of. Well, anyway, we was in a forest one night an' we saw a fire up ahead. Very quietly we got closer to listen to what they were sayin' - work out if they were friendly or not.

'Well, we 'eard them complainin' that You-Know-Who was making 'em find the giants. We knew soon enough that they was trouble, so Olympe, as quick as anything', hit 'em both with a body bind curse. Pretty soon after that we were in the mountains -'

'What happened to the Death Eaters?' Hermione interrupted. 'Surely you didn't leave them there? The curse would have worn off soon enough.'

Hagrid shifted in his chair and took a gulp of tea.

'Well, the thing is ...' he began. 'Look, if I'm goin' to tell yeh, yeh've got ter promise not teh tell anyone else ... yeah, yeah, as if yeh would, I know. Olympe - and she's not proud of this, mind, but sometimes these things have t'be done - she put a Memory Charm on them. Made 'em forget who they were completely. They're livin' in a Latvian forest as we speak thinking they're lumberjacks. Can't even speak a word of English anymore.'

'What about Muggles though? Won't they get suspicious of them using magic?' asked Ginny.

'That's the beauty of Olympe's wandwork,' said Hagrid wistfully, 'they won't even think to use magic. Besides, we snapped their wands to be on the safe side.'

'So, you were in the mountains ...' Harry said, eager to get back to Hagrid's story.

'Yeah, that's righ'. Found 'em,' said Hagrid baldly. 'Went over a ridge one nigh' an there they was, spread ou' underneath us. Little fires burnin' below an' huge shadows ... it was like watchin' bits o' the mountain movin'.'

'How big are they?' asked Ron in a hushed voice.

''Bout twenty feet,' said Hagrid casually. 'Some o' the bigger ones mighta bin twenty-five.'

'And how many were there?' asked Harry

'I reckon abou' seventy or eighty,' said Hagrid.

'Is that all?' said Hermione.

Yep, said Hagrid sadly, 'eighty left, an' there was loads once, musta bin a hundred diff'rent tribes from all over the world. Bu they've bin dyin' out fer ages. Wizards killed a few, o' course, bu' mostly they killed each other, an' now they're dyin' out faster than ever. They're not made ter live bunched up together like tha'. Dumbledore says it's our fault, it was the wizards who forced em to go an' made 'em live a good long way from us an' they had no choice bu' ter stick together fer their own protection.'

'So,' said Harry, 'you saw them and then what?'

'Well, we waited till morning, didn' want ter go sneakin' up on em in the dark, fer our own safety,' said Hagrid. ''Bout three in the mornin' they fell asleep jus' where they was sittin'. We didn' dare sleep. Fer one thing, we wanted ter make sure none of em woke up an' came up where we were, an fer another, the snorin' was unbelievable. Caused an avalanche next mornin'.

'Anyway, once it was light we wen' down ter see 'em.'

'Just like that?' said Ron, looking awestruck. 'You just walked right into a giant camp?'

'Well, Dumbledore'd told us how ter do it,' said Hagrid. 'Give the Gurg gifts, show some respect, yeh know.'

'Give the what gifts?' asked Harry

'Oh, the Gurg - means the chief.'

'How could you tell which one was the Gurg?' asked Ron. Hagrid grunted in amusement.

'No problem,' he said. 'He was the biggest, the ugliest an the laziest. Sittin' there waitin' ter be brought food by the others. Dead goats an' such like. Name o' Karkus. I'd put him at twenty-two, twenty-three feet an the weight of a couple o' bull elephants. Skin like rhino hide an' all.'

'And you just walked up to him?' said Hermione breathlessly. 

'Well, down ter him, where he was lyin' in the valley. They was in this dip between four pretty high mountains, see, beside a mountain lake, an' Karkus was lyin by the lake roarin' at the others ter feed him an' his wife. Olympe an' I went down the mountain side -'

'But didn't they try and kill you when they saw you?' asked Ron incredulously. 

'It was definitely on some o' their minds,' said Hagrid, shrugging, 'but we did what Dumbledore told us ter do, which was ter hold our gift up high an' keep our eyes on the Gurg an ignore the others. So tha's what we did. An the rest of em went quiet an' watched us pass and we got right up ter Karkus's feet an' we bowed an' puy our present down in front o' him.'

'What do you give a giant?' asked Ron eagerly. 'Food?'

'Nah, he can get food all righ fer himself,' said Hagrid. 'We took him magic. Gants like magic, jus' don' like us usin' it against 'em. Anyway that first day we gave 'im a branch o' Gubraithian fire.'

Hermione, Neville and Ginny all said, 'Wow!' but Harry and Ron both frowned in puzzlement. 

A branch of -?'

'Everlasting fire,' sad Hermione irritably, 'you ought to know that by now. Professor Flitwick's mentioned it at least twice in class!'

'Well, anyway,' said Hagrid quickly, intervening before Ron could answer back, 'Dumbledore'd bewitched this branch to burn fer evermore, which isn' somethin' any wizard could do, an' so I lies it down in the snow by Karkuss feet and says. "A gift to the Gurg of the giants from Albus Dumbledore, who sends his respectful greetings."'

'And what did Karkus say?' asked Harry eagerly. 

'Nothin'' said Hagrid. 'Didn' speak English.'

'You're kidding!'

'Didn' matter,' said Hagrid imperturbably. 'Dumbledore had warned us tha' migh' happen. Karkus knew enough to yell fer a couple o' giants who knew our lingo an' they translated fer us.'

'And did he like the present?' asked Ron. 

'Oh yeah, it went down a storm once they understood what it was,' said Hagrid. 'Very pleased. So then I said, "Albus Dumbledore asks the Gurg to speak with his messenger when he returns tomorrow with another gift."'

'Why couldn't you speak to them that day?' asked Hermione.

'Dumbledore wanted us ter take it very slow,' said Hagrid. 'Let 'em see we kept our promises. We'll come back tomorrow with another present, an' then we do come back with another present - gives a good impression, see? An' gives them time ter test out the firs' present an find out it's a good one, an get 'em eager fer more. In any case, giants like Karkus - overload 'em with information an' they'll kill yeh jus' to simplify things. So we bowed outta the way an' went off an' found ourselves a nice little cave ter spend that night in, an' the followin' mornin' we went back and this time we found Karkus sittin' up waitin' ler us lookin' all eager.'

'And you talked to him?'

'Oh yeah. Firs' we presented him with a nice battle helmet - goblin-made an' indestructible, yeh know - an' then we sat down an' we talked.'

'What did he say?'

'Not much,' said Hagrid. 'Listened mostly. But there were good signs. He'd heard o' Dumbledore, heard he'd argued against the killin of the last giants in Britain. Karkus seemed ter be quite int'rested in what Dumbledore had ter say. An a few o'the others, specially the ones who had some English, they gathered round an' listened too. We were hopeful when we left that day. Promised ter come back next mornin' with another present.'

'So that's just wha' we did, fer a week. Then we invited Karkus and 'is tribe to join us on our journey back to Britain. Promised them Dumbledore had a safe place for them.'

'You didn't?' gasped Ginny. 'What did they say?'

'Well, Karkus was all for it. He figured that if we went, then our presents went with us, but if he came then there was a chance for more gifts further down the line. And those tha' spoke English and who had been listenin' to their translations were happy to follow their Gurg. Some o' the others weren't convinced though, bu' that was all righ'. Dumbledore had said we wouldn't win all of them.'

'So how many agreed?' asked Neville.

'Abou' thirty of 'em.'

'How on earth did you plan on getting them back here?' Hermione asked, eyes wide.

'Well, that was the hard part. No' easy travelin' with thirty giants, I can tell you. Luckily we 'ad them on our side. We had to travel north first, and then across Scandinavia. Cold work, but giants have thick skins to keep 'em warm. Travelin' down Norway was the hardest part, tryin' to keep 'em away from humans. We almost had a bit o' trouble in Trondheim, I tell you. 

'It was slow going, but we passed the time telling stories and lettin' 'em know what You-Know-Who was up to, an' how great a man Dumbledore is. A couple got restless an' decided it wasn't fer them, after all, a few more died in fights. But Karkus kept pushin' on with us, so most stayed. Eventually we reached the North Sea and a ron-day-view point what Dumbledore 'ad arranged. There was a ship waitin' for us to bring the giants across to Scotland. Anyway, we did it - got back Boxing Day. There's twenty three giants in the mountains over there, ready to fight for Dumbledore when the moment comes.'

'They're not going to get hungry and wander down to Hogwarts are they?' said Neville, blanching.

'No, don't worry abou' that. Those mountains have plenty of animals for 'em to feast on.'

Neville didn't look too convinced.

Harry became aware that the knees of his robes were soaked through: Fang was with his head in Harry's lap. drooling 

'Hagrid,' said Hermione quietly after a while.

'Mmm?'

'Did you ... was there any sign of ... did you hear anything about your your mother while you were there?'

Hagrid's eyes rested upon her and Hermione looked rather scared.

'I'm sorry I ... forget it -'

'Dead,' Hagrid grunted. 'Died years ago. They told me.'

'Oh, I'm - I'm really sorry,' said Hermione in a very small voice. 

Hagrid shrugged his massive shoulders, 'No need,' he said shortly. 'Can't remember her much. Wasn't great mother.'

They were silent again. Hermione glanced nervously at Harry, Ron, Neville and Ginny plainly wanting someone to speak.

'But you still haven't explained how you got in this state, Hagrid,' Ron said, gesturing towards Hagrid's scarred face. 'Did they attack you?' said Ron.

'I haven' bin attacked!' said Hagrid emphatically. 'Some o' the giants ge' a bi' rough, that's all. Now then, time you were gettin' to bed. Don't want ter be fallin' sleep in Transfiguration, now, do yeh? Go on, off yeh go.'

There was no point in arguing so the five of them said their goodnights and made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.


	90. Occlumency

On their first Care of Magical Creatures class of the new term the class found Hagrid stood waiting for them on the edge of the Forest. He did not present a reassuring sight; in addition to the bruises and scarring that covered his hands and face, as though to complete the ominous picture, Hagrid was carrying what looked like half a dead cow over his shoulder.

'We're workin' in here today!' Hagrid called happily to the approaching students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. 'Bit more sheltered. Anyway, they prefer the dark.'

'What prefers the dark?' Draco said under his breath to Harry, a trace of panic in his voice.

Harry shrugged as he remembered the only other occasion on which Draco had entered the Forest before now in their first year at Hogwarts, before they had become friends.

'Don't worry, Hagrid wouldn't show us anything too dangerous,' Harry said, not entirely convinced of his own words.

'Ready?' said Hagrid cheerfully, looking around at the class. 'Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the Forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habita'. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em.'

'What's that you were saying?' Draco muttered.

Hagrid turned and strode straight into the Forest. Nobody seemed much disposed to follow. Harry glanced at Ron, Hermione and Neville, who sighed but nodded, and the four of them set off after Hagrid, followed by Draco and the rest of the class. They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a place where the trees stood so closely together that it was as dark as twilight. With a grunt Hagrid deposited his half a cow on the ground, stepped back and turned to face his class, most of whom were creeping from tree to tree towards him, peering around nervously as though expecting to be set upon at any moment. 

'Gather roun', gather roun', Hagrid encouraged. Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway cause they'll like ter know it's me. He turned, shook his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face and gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. Nobody laughed: most of them looked too scared to make a sound. Hagrid gave the shrieking cry again. A minute passed in which the class continued to peer nervously over their shoulders and around trees for a first glimpse of whatever it was that was coming. Hagrid shook his hair back for a third time and cried once more. As he did so, Harry felt Neville stiffen beside him.

Moments later Harry noticed chunks of meat were being torn the dead cow from it as if something invisible was chomping at it.

Most of the rest of the class were wearing expressions as confused and nervously expectant. Ron was gazing around the clearing and said, 'Why doesn't Hagrid call for them again?'

Only Harry, Neville and Theordore Nott, who had a disgusted look on his face seemed to have noticed there was an invisible entity within their midst.

'Oh, an' here comes another one!' said Hagrid proudly.

 _Another what?_ thought Harry, _and how could Hagrid tell that another one had arrived when they were clearly invisible_

'Now put yer hands up,' Hagrid said, 'who can see 'em?'

Immensely confused, Harry looked around. Beside him Neville raised his hand. Hagrid nodded at him.

'Neville, all righ' ... anyone else?'

Harry hovered his hand a little. Hagrid looked at him.

'Well, I can see that something's eating,' he said, pointing at the cow carcass on the ground, 'but I can't see what.'

The whole class stared at the carcass for a few seconds, then several people gasped and Parvati squealed. Harry understood why; bits of flesh stripping themselves away from the bones and vanishing into thin air looked very odd indeed.

'What's doing it?' Parvati demanded in a terrified voice, retreating behind the nearest tree. 'What's eating it?'

'Thestrals,' said Hagrid proudly and Hermione gave a soft 'Oh,' of comprehension at Harry's shoulder. 'Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows -?'

'But they're really, really unlucky!' interrupted Parvati, looking alarmed. They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune on people who see them. 'Professor Trelawney told me once -'

'No, no, no,' said Hagrid, chuckling, 'tha's jus superstition, that is, they aren' unlucky, they're dead clever an' useful! Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, it's mainly jus' pullin' the school carriages unless Dumbledore's takin' a long journey an' don' want ter Apparate - an' here's another couple, look -'

Parvati shivered and pressed herself closer to the tree, saying, 'I think I felt something, I think its near me!'

'Don' worry, it won' hurt yeh,' said Hagrid patiently. 'Righ', now who can tell me why some o' yeh can see 'em an' some can't?' Hermione raised her hand. 'Go on then,' said Hagrid, beaming at her.

'The only people who can see Thestrals,' she said, 'are people who have seen death.'

'Tha's exactly right,' said Hagrid solemnly, 'ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, Thestrals are native to Britain, but most are wild and tend to keep themselves to themselves. Now, I managed to wrangle us a few - a male an' five females. This one -' he patted the air beside him, where Harry supposed one of these creatures must be stood, '- name o' Tenebrus, he's my special favourite, firs' one born here in the Forest. Neville, why don't you describe wha' they look like to the rest o' the class.'

Neville's eyes widened, surprised at being asked to participate.

'Er ... well, they're horses, but a bit bigger than a normal horse ... and - er - they're black, but not covered in hair ... more like a sling skin that clings tight to their - er - clings to their bones -'

'They're ugly brutes is what they are,' came Nott's voice from the back of the class. 'And pointless to study if only two of us can see them.'

'You can see 'em too?' asked Hagrid.

'Yeah, that's right. Disgusting creatures if you ask me.'

'People like you are why Thestrals continue to ge' a bad rap,' said Hagrid looking hurt. 'Thestrals have got a bad reputation because o' the death thing - people used ter think they were bad omens, didn' they? Jus' didn' understand, did they? But when purple dismiss 'em fer the way they look, well they're never going ter be accepted.

'They're smart, are Thestrals. Once they're tamed, like this lot, you'll never be lost again. 'Mazin' sense o' direction, jus tell 'em where yeh want ter go and they'll get you there in a flash. An' they're strong and willin' ter work in any conditions. These ones pull the carriages from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts on the first day of the year, and back again on the last day. Or maybe if you think they're so disgusting you'd rather walk in future?'

Harry saw Nott mutter something to Pansy Parkinson who giggled, though nothing more was said aloud.

'Now then,' Hagrid continued, 'why don't you come and say hello to Tenebrus, Neville?'

Neville blanched as the class turned to stare at him.

'Come on over,' Hagrid continued, oblivious to Neville's fear, 'that's righ'. Now, just pat him on his nose like this, gently mind.'

Hagrid patted the air in front of him and Neville then moved aside to allow Neville to do the same.

'Yeh'll be fine,' Hagrid assured him. 'I've raised Tenebrus from a foal, he's friendly to people I introduce to 'im.'

Harry had a funny feeling this did not fill Neville with confidence. Nevertheless Neville reached a hand out and patted the air in front of him.

'There yeh go!' Hagrid beamed. 'He like you, he does.'

As Hagrid said this the class saw Neville's face distort and his hair get flicked back. 

''E only licks those he likes,' Hagrid said. 'Why don't you hop on the back and go for a quick fly?'

'No - I don't think -' Neville began, his eyes open in terror.

'Nonsense,' said Hagrid as he hoisted Neville into the air. A money later Neville was floating, his legs apart as if straddling some great invisible horse, which, Harry reminded himself, he was.

'All righ', now,' Hagrid said, 'hold on tight, we don' want you slippin' off do we. If everyone could clear a path.'

Hagrid waved the students to the sides of the clearing and they all obliged giving a clear run for the Thestral.

'Now then, Tenebrus,' Hagrid said, 'jus' once 'round the castle will be fine I reckon. And not too fast,' he added looking at Neville's white face. 'It's 'is firs' time after all.'

Hagrid stepped back, leaving Neville alone in the centre of the clearing. A moment later he zoomed forward and the class was ruffled by the passing wind. Neville was now nowhere to be seen. If this was Tenebrus going 'not too fast' Harry awed at the speeds a Thestral might reach.

'Give him a minute and they'll be back,' Hagrid assured the class. 'Best keep that path clear though.'

Sure enough Neville returned soon enough, clinging onto an invisible mane, eyes shut tight.

'There you are, Neville, how was that?' Hagrid asked as he lifted Neville from the Thestral. Neville merely whimpered something and raced back to Harry and the others.

'All righ',' said Hagrid cheerfully. 'Who else wants to have a go?'

As the entire class took a step back Harry felt his scar burn. He fell to the floor, hand held tight to his forehead. Something had happened to make Voldemort furious.

The class swam out of view and Harry heard his rage.

_How could this happen? I thought you had fixed this!_

Harry saw a figure cowering on the floor. Wormtail.

'If Lucius had done your bidding properly in the first place, Dark Lord,' Wormtail whimpered.

_Do not pass the blame. This is your mess. I will deal with Lucius another time._

'Harry!'

Hermione's cry brought Harry back to the clearing.

'Are you all righ', Harry?' asked Hagrid, at his side.

'Yeah, fine,' said Harry.

'I'll take him to the hospital wing,' said Draco.

'Yeah, o' course,' said Hagrid, 'everyone else step back, give 'em some room.'

Harry leant against Draco as they made their way back to the castle.

'Did you see something?' Draco asked.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'It was like I was Voldemort himself. I was in his head. He's angry. Something to do with your dad.'

'My father? Did you see him too? Was he there?'

'No, just Wormtail. But Voldemort said something about dealing with you dad later.'

Draco said nothing else until they reached the hospital wing and he described Harry's faint to Madam Pomfrey, who kept Harry in bed rest for the rest of the day, despite his protests that he was now fine.

*

The next morning at breakfast they discovered what had happened to make Voldemort so angry.

 _FUDGE SUPPORTER, LUCIUS MALFOY ARRESTED_ read the front page of the Daily Prophet. Beneath the headline was a photograph of Lucius Malfoy, doing his best to escape the frame, but an Auror, who Harry recognised as Rufus Scrimgeour, kept pulling him back into view.

'What did they get him on?' asked Ron with glee.

' _Lucius Malfoy, 41, of Whiltshire,_ ' read Hermione, ' _was arrested yesterday morning after accusations of using an Imperious Curse on an Unspeakable. The Ministry worker (whose name has not been disclosed due to the secretive nature of their job) had been hospitalised after fighting the curse caused significant damage to their brain. Whilst in St Mungo's the Unspeakable survived what is now thought to be an assassination attempt when a visitor on the ward recognised their Christmas present was not in fact a Flitterbloom as the hospital staff believed, but a dangerous Venemous Tentacular._ '

'Hey!' said Ron 'I bet it's that bloke you saved, Neville!' He slapped Neville on the back, causing him to choke on his pumpkin juice.

' _Soon though, the Unspeakable regained their cognitive functions and the first thing they uttered was the name of Mr Malfoy. Soon an accusation of being put under an Imperious Curse followed. Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour personally led the team who tracked Mr Malfoy down to his Wiltshire Manor. Mr Malfoy now awaits a trial, scheduled for tomorrow, presided over by Madame Bones and the Wizengamot, and it expected he will be given a life sentence at Azkaban._ '

'You're a hero, Neville,' said Ron. 'Not only did you save a life, but because of that, Lucius Malfoy is going to Azkaban for good.'

'What's an Unspeakable?' Harry asked, already aware he was the only one who didn't know the answer to his question.

'They work in the Department of Mysteries,' Ginny said. 'Their work is top secret though, I'm not even sure if the Minster of Magic knows what they do.'

'Do you think they have something to do with this weapon Voldemort's after?' asked Harry.

'It'd make sense,' said Neville. 'Why else would Lucius Malfoy try and curse one of them?'

*

The end of the week came, and with it Harry's first Occlumency lesson.

Harry paused outside Professor Black's office and realised he had not been here since he and Ron had been brought there in their second year after they had flown Mr Weasley's car to Hogwarts. He knocked and Professor Black's voice said, 'Enter,' from within.

Harry passed through the door and found himself in Black's office, as bare as it had been the last time Harry had been there. Though the glass case which stored a golden locket seemed fuller than the last time.

'Is that -?'

'Tom Riddle's diary, yes,' Professor Black answered without Harry needed to finish his question. 'I thought it best to keep it out of reach out those who might try to reignite its power. That case is openable by me and me alone. The glass is protected by unbreakable charms, the items within are incredibly dangerous.'

They didn't look that dangerous, thought Harry. But he knew the power the diary had held. But the locket, which upon closer inspection seemed to have been corroded through its centre by something, seemed innocent enough, as did the ring next to it, whose inset stone was cracked down it's centre.

'But we are not here to discuss such artifacts today,' said Professor Black, regaining Harry's attention. 'Instead, you are too learn Occlumency. As we know you have to ability to sense what the Voldemort is feeling and, at times, see what he sees. If he recognises this, then the question of him using this against you to his advantage is not a question of if, but when. I believe you had another vision the other day during Care of Magical Creatures, is that correct?'

'Yes,' Harry answered.

'Yes, Draco mentioned you saw that the Voldemort was angry with his father. Clearly this was related to his arrest that morning. His anger was so great that it was able to penetrate your mind even during the middle of a lesson. This highlights the importance of these sessions.

'To be a successful Occlumens, such as myself, you must clear your mind and remove any remnant of emotion. I want you to practise now. Breathe deeply, and clear your mind ... think of nothing ... come on, Harey, breathe deeply ... in, 2, 3, 4 ... out, 2, 3, 4 ... in, 2, 3, 4 ...'

Harry closed his eyes, slowed his breathing down as instructed and attempted to relax his mind. He blocked out all thoughts about why Professor Black might have kept Voldemort's school diary, all memories of when it had led him to believe Hagrid was a culprit, all anger at what it had done to Ginny ...

'Now, Harry,' came Professor Black's voice in the darkness, 'I am going to attempt to break in to you mind. Do your best to fight me off.'

Harry braced himself.

'Legilimens!' shouted Professor Black.

Image after image was racing through his mind like a flickering film so vivid it blinded him to his surroundings.

He was twelve again, watching Hagrid get caught by Tom Riddle ... then he was in a nest of giant spiders, Hermione at his side ... there was Ginny, so young and innocent, lying on the ground, her life being stolen from her by a ghost ... Professor Black convulsing on the dungeon floor ... a Basilisk attacking ... a gang piercing his skin ... Ginny scared but alive ... now he was fourteen and at the Yule Ball ... dancing with Ginny ... in the courtyard ... Ginny on her tiptoes, leaning in to kiss him ...

 _No,_ said a voice inside Harry's head, as this memory of Ginny drew nearer, _you're not watching that you're not watching it, it's private_

He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Professor Black's office had come back into view and he realised that he had fallen to the floor one of his knees had collided painfully with the flagstone. He looked up at Professor Black. 

'Very good, Harry,' Professor Black said as Harry got to his feet. 'Not bad for a first attempt.

'Did you see everything I saw?' Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

'Moments here and there,' said Professor Black. 'It was an interesting experience watching myself under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Obviously you had the diary on your mind. You must clear your mind. Let's try again.'

Harry took a deep breath and cleared his mind again.

'Legilimens!'

Harry saw Neville in Remus's office, his Gran convulsing on the floor before them ... Harry felt himself falling from his Nimbus two-thousand as Dementors invaded the Quidditch pitch ... he and Sirius were now fighting off Dementors in Little Whinging ...  
now he was a snake ... now he was attacking Percy Weasley ...

'NO!'

Harry was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull.

'All right, all right,' said Professor Black. 'I think I've put you through enough tonight. I want you to practise clearing your mind each night before you go to bed. Hopefully it will protect against the Voldemort. You're free to go, Harry, we will try again next week. I am sure you will have built up a little more resistance by then.'


	91. The Cave

As January Quidditch practice continued Angelina began to implement her plan for getting Ron's confidence up when playing in front of a crowd.

The first week's training session had been to get the team back into the rhythm of the game, most having not flown over the holidays. The following week Angelina had ensured the presence of Hermione, Neville and Ginny in the stands, who cheered the team on. The following week this had been upped to include Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati. Each practise that followed the stands would fill with another year group, all cheering the team on. Ron was excelling under these conditions.

'I reckon I'll be alright against Hufflepuff,' he said after practise one night in February.

The improvement Neville had made in his wandwork at the start of the year was also continuing; he had become particularly adept at Charms, second only to Hermione. 

Many members of the Advanced Defense Club were now casting corporeal Patronuses, including Ron's Jack Russell, and Cho Chang's swan. The only person who hadn't cast even a non-corporeal Patronus was Draco, even Viktor's suggestion of the moment he knew he would be returning to Hogwarts didn't help. Kingsley had now moved them onto the Protego Charm, a spell that would shield from a number of hexes and curses that many adult witches and wizards could not master.

Harry was having as much luck with his Occlumency lessons, as Draco had had with the Partronus. If anything his scar was hurting more often since he had begun his lessons with Professor Black.

'Do you perform your breathing techniques before bed every night?' Professor Black asked after another fruitless lesson.

'Yes,' said Harry through gritted teeth.

'Have you had any more visions of Voldemort's actions?'

'No.'

'Well, that at least is something. But your scar continues to pain you?'

'Yeah.'

Professor Black sighed and sat behind his desk.

'Professor,' said Harry, 'did you not say that it's easier for Voldemort to enter my mind when it was relaxed? How does the breathing help with that.'

It was something Harry had been wanting to ask for a while.

'Because if you are doing it correctly it should be clearing your mind. There is a difference between a relaxed mind and an empty mind. I fear, Harry, that he problem is you are too much a Gryffindor. Just like your parents, just like my brother, you are too emotional, and you where those emotions on your sleeves. This isn't always a bad thing, but it makes Occlumency difficult.'

Professor Black studied Harry with his cold, black eyes. Harry tried to work out what the Potion's Master was thinking, but, Harry supposed, he had his emotions under control and gave nothing away.

'I think we should end tonight's session here, Harry. Keep up with your breathing and enjoy your Hogsmeade trip tomorrow. I assume you're taking Miss Weasley. I believe that Madam Puddifoot's tea room is still the place to visit on Valentine's Day.'

Harry was unsure how he felt about Professor Black giving him tips on romance, but, he decided as he climbed the stairs back to Gryffindor Tower, he certainly wouldn't be taking his advice on this matter.

Ginny was in fact waiting for him as he crawled through the portrait hole.

'There you are!' she said. 'You've got a letter.'

'A letter?' said Harry. 'Who from?'

'We're not sure, we don't recognise the owl. It's over there.'

Harry followed the finger Ginny used to point and, sure enough, the letter was there on their usual table by the fire. Attached to it was a severe looking Eagle Owl.

'Why has no one taking the letter off it?' Harry asked.

'We've tried, but it tries to bite anyone who gets too close.'

Now Harry looked again he saw that the owl was resting above scrolls and textbooks. Ron, Hermione and Neville were at least two feet away from the table, nervously glancing at the owl every so often.

Harry tentatively approached the table. The owl started at him, and slowly raised it's taloned foot, presenting the leg to Harry to which his letter was tied. Harry removed the letter carefully then backed away. The owl ruffled it's feathers and flew to the window (causing a number of students to duck for cover) and tapped it three times. Fred was closest to the window and opened it. The owl flew into the night.

Harry looked at the letter. It was definitely meant for him. The address read:

_MR HARRY POTTER  
GRYFFINDOR COMMON ROOM  
GRYFFINDOR TOWER  
HOGWARTS_

He turned it over and saw it was sealed with a stamp Harry recognised as the insignia of the Ministry of Magic.

'Who's writing to you from the Ministry?' Ron asked as he and the others joined Harry to reclaim their table.

'Dunno,' Harry shrugged. 

He opened the envelope. Inside was a small piece of parchment. Harry recognised the writing immediately.

_I've got exciting news. I'll be waiting by my mirror._

'Why is Sirius sending letters from the Ministry?' said Ron.

'And what's so important that he wants to tell you, but he can't write it in a letter?' Hermione said.

Whatever it was Sirius wanted, Harry knew it would have to wait until they had privacy. Whilst they waited for the common room to empty Harry, Ron and Neville worked on their Divination homework whilst Hermione looked over an essay Ginny had written for Professor McGonagal.

Eventually they were alone and Harry fetched his mirror from his dormitory, careful not to wake Dean and Seamus.

'Harry!' beamed Sirius as his face filled the mirror's glass. 'You got the letter then?'

'Yeah, the owl you sent made sure of it.' 

'Ministry owl,' Sirius said. 'They get the job done properly. And is that Ginny I see?'

'Yeah, and Ron, Hermione and Neville are here too, is that all right?' said Harry.

'Of course it is,' said Sirius. 'And let's be honest, you'd only tell them anyway, wouldn't you?'

'Yeah,' Harry admitted. 'So what's the news?'

'Before that, I want to know how your Occlumency lessons are going? My brother isn't abusing his position is he?'

'No,' said Harry. 'He's taught me a breathing technique I have to do everytime I go to bed. It clears my mind so Voldemort can't link with me when I sleep.'

'And it's working?'

'Well I'm not having visions any more,' Harry said.

'But his scar is hurting more offer,' said Ron.

'Really?' said Sirius, concerned. 'Well I only hope he is closing your mind and not making it easier to manipulate. How's you Keeping coming along, Ron? Remember I still have that bet the Gryffindor are going to win the Cup again this year.'

'Yeah ... I'm doing alright,' Ron said

'He's loads better,' said Neville.

'Angelina's been getting Gryffindors to go and watch the training sessions,' Ginny explained. 'Get him comfortable in front of a crowd. It's working.'

'That's a great idea! You'd better send her my thanks.'

'So, what's your news?' Harry asked again.

'Yeah,' said Ron, 'what's so important that it can't wait until tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow?' said Sirius.

'Yeah, it's a Hogsmeade trip,' said Ron. 'Will you not be there?'

'I wasn't invited,' said Sirius.

'I thought you'd be busy with this new job you've got,' said Harry. 'Last time you said it would be keeping you busy.'

'It will be, but you can still invite me,' said Sirius, pouting playfully. 'Anyway, I'm sure you'll be spending a romantic day with Ginny, you wouldn't want me hanging around. But, I am free for a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon. I could Apparate up. It would be good to see your Animagus form. I want to see what type of snake you are. It would be good for us to be able to recognise you when you're transformed, see what your distinguishing features are. Do you think you can meet me around three o'clock?'

Harry looked at the others. Ginny gave an agreeable shrug, Hermione nodded, Ron gave a thumbs up.

'I promised I'd spend the day with Hannah,' said Neville, 'but don't let that stop you, just tell me tomorrow night the important bits.'

'Alright, meet you outside the Three Broomsticks?' said Harry.

'Sounds good,' said Sirius, smiling.

'Now tell us your news,' said Harry for the third time.

'Oh, right, well, it's about my new job. I've passed all my tests, and I start on Monday.'

'That's great news. What will you be doing?' asked Harry.

'I've joined the Auror office,' said Sirius.

'You're an Auror?' exclaimed Hermione. 'But doesn't that usually take years of training? How did you manage it so quickly?'

'I had some good references,' said Sirius, smiling. 'Add to that my record in the war against Voldemort, the fact that I'd managed to survive and break out of Azkaban, and the fact that Madame Bones wants to strengthen their ranks, with those that are now guarding Azkaban and the fact that Voldemort's back, I was welcomed into the team. I'd have started before Christmas if it wasn't for Umbridge and her vendetta against me.'

'That's great news,' said Harry, 'congratulations.'

'Thanks,' said Sirius.

'So, there are more new recruits?' said Hermione.

'Yeah, there's a few of us. I'm starting with some kid called Mendacius Fawley. Seems a nice lad. Very smart, too.'

'He was Head Boy in our first year,' Hermione said. I never ceased to amaze Harry how she remembered these things with such clarity. 'He was a Ravenclaw. I take it he did the full three years of training.'

'No, no,' said Sirius. 'He joined not long after I did. He's been traveling for the past few years, but he returned because of the reports that Voldemort's back. He says it's his duty to fight. We'll be working under Gawain Robards to start with, he's one of the top Aurors, and we'll be out in the field working straight away, which will be great.'

'Sounds brilliant,' said Ron. 'I've heard of Robards, he's pretty tough.'

'Well, it's getting late, and I'll be seeing you tomorrow now,' said Sirius. 'Three o'clock at the Three Broomsticks. Night, all.'

They all bid Sirius a good night and his face vanished from the mirror.

'No wonder he was excited to tell you,' said Ron. 'An Auror, wow ... that's pretty cool ...'

*

The next morning Harry was woken by someone jumping on to his bed 

'Happy Valentine's Day!'

It was Ginny, and she handed Harry a present and card.

Harry opened the card first. On the front was a cherub, flirting around the page shooting his arrows out of sight.

_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,  
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.  
I'm glad taht he's mine, he's really divine,  
the hero who conquered the Dark Lord._

Harry chuckled. Ginny had written the same thing in last year's card, and it was based on a poem she had written three years before where it had been sung to him loudly by an obnoxious dwarf who had been hired by Lockhart to spread Valentine joy.

He next opened the present, feeling slightly guilty. He had not bought Ginny anything. They had said they weren't getting presents. She had given him a box of chocolate fondants from Honeydukes and a tub of Prindle's Perfect Polish for his Firebolt. This made Harry feel even more guilty. He knew this wasn't a cheap polish. It was the best you could buy, and even Harry tended to use a cheaper brand. He knew that when he applied it, his broom would look as good as new again.

'So where's mine?' Ginny asked him.

'Er - I've got something planned for later,' Harry lied.

'No you've not,' Ginny said. 'You forgot didn't you?'

'Oi!' came Ron's voice from the next bed. 'Can you two have your domestic somewhere else please? Some of us are trying to have a lie in.'

'I'll see you later,' said Ginny, getting off Harry's bed and leaving the dormitory.

'We said no presents!' Harry said to Ron, Hermione and Neville later that morning at breakfast. Ginny had taken a seat at the far end of Gryffindor table with her classmates.

'Well, everyone says that, Harry,' said Hermione reproachfully, 'but you still should have got her something.'

'What am I going to do now? I said I had something planned. What are you doing with Hannah, Neville?'

'Er ... we're just spending time together ... we'll probably go to Madam Puddifoot's at some point. I think Hannah's keen to go.'

Ron snorted into his cereal.

'I'd love to see you take Ginny there!' he said. But it was looking more and more like Harry didn't have any other choice.

'What do you think, Hermione? You speak with Ginny. What sort of thing might she like?'

'Well -' Hermione began, before being interrupted by the morning post. 'Oh, no!' she said after opening her newly delivered copy of the Daily Prophet.

'What's wrong?' asked Neville.

'Listen to this: _Ministry Madness_ ' Hermione read. ' _The Daily Prophet can exclusively report that Minister for Magic, Amelia Bones, has fast tracked a number of applicants to the Auror office. A new batch of Aurora have been inducted this week after merely three months of training, rather than the usual three years. Included in this selection are two youngsters only a year out of Hogwarts, Amal Akram, a French national, and former convict, Sirius Black. The reasoning behind this spate of lax appointments is as yet unknown, but Black's employment in particular leads to many questioning the motives of Madam Bones, and does little to dispel the rumours of interference from Albus Dumbledore._

_'Since Black's return to public life Dumbledore has been a huge supporter of his, testifying not only in his initial retrial two summers ago - in which Madam Bones, in her then position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, found him innocent of the murders he had been previously convicted of - but also defended him last summer at a hearing related to magic Black had performed in front of Muggles._

_'"Black has clearly been allowed to become Auror so quickly to give Dumbledore another spy within the Ministry and to allow him to further interfere with Ministry business," one source claims. "There is no need for further Aurors to be employed, especially without proper protocols. This rumour that You-Know-Who has returned, which Professor Dumbledore has created, and Madam Bones perpetuates, is absolute nonsense, and a rouse which Dumbledore is using to seize the power he has always craved. If You-Know-Who had returned, do you not think we'd all know about it by now? What's he been doing for six months?"_

_'This reflects the feelings of a growing number of wizards who are beginning to doubt the assurance of Dumbledore that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned. Supporters of Dumbledore will point to the trial of Barty Crouch Jr as evidence of his return, but detractors question the mental state of Crouch Jr and whether his word can be taken for truth, or a fantasy his addled mind created.'_

Hermione put down the paper in fury. 'This is absolutely ridiculous!' she said. 'Utterly misleading, and you know people will read it and start agreeing with it. And then the public opinion will be that Dumbledore is a tyrant who just wants to take control of the Wizard population, conveniently forgetting the fact he was leading the fight against You-Know-Who last time, not to mention his famous duel against Grindelwald!' 

'No one's going to believe that of Dumbledore,' said Ron. 

'Mark my words, Ron,' said Hermione darkly, 'we'll be seeing more articles like this over then next few months. And You-Know-Who will stay in hiding for longer now he knows there's discord among us. It's a classic case of divide and conquer. You heard what Dumbledore said last year, and what the Sorting Hat said in his song at the star of term feast. This is a time where unity is necessary. You-Know-Who knows that to. This plays right into his hands.' 

Harry hadn't had chance to press Hermione any further on the subject of what to do for Ginny, which was why they found themselves outside Madam Puddifoot's tea room that afternoon. 

Neville had given Harry directions; he had never even heard of the teashop until the previous day. As they reached it, Harry realised why he hadn't noticed it before. For a start it was up a side road and secondly it was tiny. It was a cramped, steamy little place where everything seemed to have been decorated with frills or bows. It seemed to have been decorated especially for Valentine's Day. There were a number of golden cherubs that were hovering over each of the small, circular tables, occasionally throwing pink confetti over the occupants. 

Harry held the door open for Ginny. 

'Thanks,' she said shortly as she passed through it. She did not look impressed. 

Harry followed her in and looked around. He noticed Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain sitting near the window with a pretty blonde girl. They were holding hands. The sight made Harry feel uncomfortable. Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory were near the back of the teashop. Harry was about to wave a hello to them before they stared kissing each other quite violently. He quickly turned away. 

'Great plan, lover boy,' said Ginny. 'It's full.' 

Before Harry could respond he was saved by someone calling his name. In the corner of the teashop he saw Neville waving them over. 

'If you're looking for somewhere to sit,' he said as they walked up to his and Hannah's table, 'I'm sure Madame Puddifoot would be able to get us a couple of extra chairs for our table.' 

As if she had overheard Neville's words, Madam Puddifoot, a very stout woman with a shiny black bun, had squeezed through the tables with great difficulty, and said 'A double date is it, m'dears?' she conjured up Two extra chairs and Harry and Ginny sat in them at Neville and Hannah's table. 'Now what can I get you?' 

After they had ordered, Hannah turned to them and said with glee, 'Look what Neville got me!' She presented them with a tomato plant.

'Tomatoes?' said Harry dubiously. 

'Yeah,' Hannah said. 'He's so romantic.' 

'What's romantic about tomatoes?' asked Harry. 

'Well, they're not magical or anything,' said Hannah, blushing, 'but Muggles call them Love Apples, which is really cute!' 

'Right ...' said Harry, not wholly convinced.<

'Well, I think it's a great gift, Neville,' said Ginny. 'At least we know romance isn't completely dead.' 

Harry felt there was an unsaid insult in Ginny's words that was aimed at him. 

Eventually their drinks arrived. Harry was glad they had joined Neville and Hannah. For a start they were the only couple in the teashop not holding hands and kissing each other. Harry didn't mind showing Ginny affection, but would rather not doing it so publicly, or just because it was expected. But more importantly, they didn't stop talking, meaning he didn't have to awkwardly converse with Ginny about why he hadn't gotten her a better Valentine's gift. 

Finally it came time to meet Sirius so Harry and Ginny said their goodbyes and left the tea room feeling as though they'd just taken an Herbology lesson. 

They walked in silence to the Three Broomsticks, brushing confetti out if their hair. Ron, Hermione and Draco (who was enjoying a crisp green apple) were already waiting outside. Moments later Sirius came out of the pub itself. 

'Hello, you lot,' he grinned. 'Having a good day? Hope my godson has been treating you like a queen, Ginny, what's he done for you?' 

'We went to Madame Puddifoot's,' Ginny answered shortly. 

Sirius pulled a disgusted face. 

'Ugh, really? Is it as tacky as it used to be in my day?' he asked as they began to walk up the high street. 

'They had cherubs throwing confetti over everyone,' Ginny answered. 

'That'll be a yes then,' laughed Sirius. 'If you didn't look so much like him I wouldn't believe you were James' son. He knew how to treat a lady right, let me tell you. In fact I was just reminiscing with Rosmerta about the time he tried his luck with her - this was before he started going out with your mum by the way. As if he stood a chance. She was ten years older than him for a start. She's still a very beautiful lady though.' 

'Yeah, she is,' Ron agreed. Hermione shot him a dirty look. 

'She told him to try again when he could grow a mustache,' Sirius continued as he led them past Dervish and Banges, and out towards the edge of the village. Harry had never been in this direction before. 'He worked out how to magic himself a beard by the next trip. Mind you, he was a little overzealous - he sprouted hair all over. Had to visit Madam Pomfrey to get it sorted out. Gave Remus a run for his money for hairiest Marauder that month, I tell you.' 

The winding lane was leading them out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages were fewer here, and their gardens larger; they were walking towards the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then they turned a corner, and saw a stile at the end of the lane, which they climbed over. They crossed the scrubby patch of ground which rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. 

'Is this safe?' asked Hermione nervously.' 

'Of course it is!' said Sirius. 'We used to visit this place all the time as students. It'll give us plenty of privacy, not many people know about it.' Hermione didn't look convinced. 

Sirius led them to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders and rocks. They began the arduous task of climbing and were soon out of breath. They followed Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climbed a steep, winding and stony path, following Sirius. As he sweated his way up the mountain Harry was glad it wasn't the height of summer. 

'Here it is,' Sirius said at last. 'Hmm, this gap is larger than I remember it being. He disappeared into a wide fissure in the rock, and the others followed, finding themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. A low rumbling sound reverberated around them. 

Sirius held his finger to his lips to silence them as they entered the cave. He looked like he was listening for something. 

'What's wrong?' Harry whispered. 

'I'm trying to work out what that sound is,' Sirius whispered back. 

'It sounds like someone's snoring,' whispered Ron. Even in the dim cave light Harry saw the colour drain from Hermione's face. 

'Giants,' she whispered, eyes wide with terror. 

'Giants?' whispered Sirius. 'There aren't any giants in Scotland. Not any more.' 

'Hagrid brought them back from Europe,' Hermione told him. 

They stood for a moment in silence. The rumbling sound had stopped. Then they heard a yawn, amplified by the echo of the cave. 

'Back out, slowly and quietly,' Sirius instructed. 'Then we'll get down this mountain as quickly as we can.' 

Ron led the way, scrambling through the fissure and racing down the mountainside. They managed to get back to the stile having only tripped over a couple of times. 

'Pick up some Murtlap Essence in the village,' Sirius said as they sat and rested, realising they weren't being chased any more. 'That'll sort your cuts right out. So, Hagrid found the giants, eh? And he convinced them to come back with him.' 

'You didn't know?' Harry said. 

'Not everything gets shared around the Order,' Sirius said. 'As long as Dumbledore knows that's the important thing. He'd pass the information on if he felt we needed to know.' 

'What's he got them so close to Hogsmeade for?' asked Ron in an unusually high voice. 

'Maybe they've moved closer of there own accord,' said Sirius with concern. 'I'd better let Dumbledore know.' 

'Won't he wonder what you were doing in the mountains?' Harry asked. He wasn't sure he wanted Dumbledore to know he had become an Animagus. He felt sure he would disapprove. And it would probably cause trouble for Sirius. 

'I'll tell him we went for a hike,' Sirius said, as if he had read Harry's thoughts. 'I'm going to go back to London now and write to him immediately.' He leant in and squeezed Harry tight. 'It'll be fine, I'll see you lot soon.' 

'Yeah, ok, see you,' said Harry gloomily. He still hadn't shown his godfather his Animagus form. 'Good luck with being an Auror.' 

'Thanks, not that I'll need it, eh?' he said with a smile and a wink. Then, with a loud crack, his disapparated. 

They walked back to the Hogsmeade high street and bought some Murtlap Essence from Abercrombie's Apothecary. 

'Happy Valentine's Day,' Harry said as he applied some to a cut above Ginny's eye. 

Ginny snorted. 'That's the most romantic you've been all day,' she said. 

'To be fair, you did say no presents,' Harry said. 

'Yeah, well, next time you'll know, won't you?' she said, smiling. 

'Am I forgiven?' Harry chanced as he put the lid back on the pot of Murtlap Essence. 

'We'll see,' Ginny said. Next moment she had pulled him towards her by his robes and kissed him. 


	92. The Lion and the Badger

Quidditch training became more intensive in the week leading up to Gryffindor's match against Hufflepuff, and the team had graduated to the entirety of Gryffindor watching them practise. 

Boosted by this support, and much more comfortable on his Firebolt, Ron was a completely new player. When Lee Jordan stated commentating on their training he even began showing off with loop the loops around the rings. He now had an almost hundred percent save rate - even managing to stop Katie from scoring after Fred and George both sent Bludgers his way.

Draco had also improved his flying thanks to the Firebolt Professor Black had got him for Christmas, managing to catch the Snitch six minutes into their match against Ravenclaw, before either team had managed to score.

'Great flying everyone,' Angelina said after they changed out of their robes the evening before their match. 'Just do that again tomorrow and we'll easily beat Hufflepuff!'

Angelina's confidence carried over to the next morning and across the whole team. Even Ron ate a hearty breakfast as he tried to explain how to successfully pull off a barrel roll to Lavender Brown. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes during his explanation.

'Just because you don't like Quidditch, doesn't mean that some people aren't impressed by my natural athleticism,' Ron said when he caught her, which caused Lavender to giggle.

Down on the pitch Angelina and Cedric shook each other's hands, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and they were up in the air.

As usual, Harry found himself a high vantage point from where he could search for the snitch. The sky was clear, and their was a cool spring breeze which eased the heat from the bright sun.

'And it's the ever gorgeous Angelina Johnson with the Quaffle,' Harry heard Lee Jordan say. 'She passes to Katie Bell, who throws it straight back, getting them past Hufflepuff's Zacharias Smith - and Johnson lines up against Hufflepuff Keeper Keith Ricketts - AND SHE SCORES! Ten-nil to Gryffindor!'

'Hiya, Harry,' came a voice from beside him. Cedric had flown up next to Harry. 'Just wanted to wish you luck, before I bet you too the Snitch.'

'What makes you think you'll manage that?' asked Harry. 'You've never caught it before me before.'

'Yeah, but it's been two years since we last played each other. I'm older and wiser now. Didn't you see how easily I bet Cho in November?'

'Yeah, well Draco beat Cho last week, so that's nothing to brag about,' Harry laughed.

There was a roar from the crowd below. Lee told them that Gryffindor had scored again.

'Better get looking for it,' said Harry, 'before our score gets to high to beat, even with the Snitch!'

Cedric duly flew across the the other side of the pitch and the two of them circled it looking for the slightest glint of gold.

Harry saw Ron stop three attacks from Hufflepuff. On the third attack he lobbed the Quaffle across the pitch to Alicia Spinnet who scored her first goal of the match.

The Gryffindor Chasers were on fine form, dodging Bludgers, weaving around their Hufflepuff counterparts, juggling the Quaffle between the three of them. Harry couldn't help but be amazed at their tightly choreographed routine as they took the score to ninety-nil.

The first goal Ron missed slipped past his fingertips as he avoided Michael Hunt, the Hufflepuff Beater who was flying straight towards him. Madam Hooch allowed Gryffindor a penalty due to the Blatching foul committed by Hunt. Hunt himself ended up tangled in the central goal hoop and had to be taken to the Hospital Wing. The score was now one hundred-ten and Hufflepuff were a Beater down.

'We're playing brilliantly,' Angelina encouraged as they huddled together during the time-out called by Cedric. 'We've really got them on the ropes now, let's keep it up. Harry don't go after the Snitch unless Diggory spots it. Let's rack up some points!'

The two teams kicked off again. Harry and Cedric continued to fly above the game, like hawks waiting to strike. Over the next quarter of an hour the score increased to one hundred and fifty-twenty, thanks to continuous great play from the Gryffindor Chasers and a desperate Dionysus Dive from Eliza Rubenstein.

'Better find that Snitch soon, Cedric,' Harry shouted as he passed his fellow Seeker. 'Otherwise Hufflepuff will never come back from this!'

'Ah, we're just warming up!' Cedric shouted back. 'Look!'

He was pointing to his teammates who, sure enough were making their way back up the pitch to the Gryffindor goal hoops.

'Smith to Rubenstein who ducks under a Bludger sent her way by either Fred or George Weasley,' Lee Jordan was saying, 'and ducks a second sent by either George or Fred Weasley - Rubenstein passes back to Smith who drops it to O'Brien in a perfectly executed Porskoff Ploy - O'Brien facing off now against Ron Weasley, who is giving great coverage to his Goal Hoop, O'Brien has no chance whatsoever here - she shoots - WAIT! She passes the Quaffle across to Rubenstein who throws for the far goal post - Weasley isn't going to make it!'

Harry watched the action unfold through squinted eyes. There was a sharp intake of breath around the stadium and the Quaffle collided with Ron's nose.

'Unbelievable play from Gryffindor's Keeper!' yelled Lee. 'Now THAT is commitment! It's still one fifty to Gryffindor and twenty to Hufflepuff, and it's Johnson with the Quaffle.' 

After five more goals - two of which were in Hufflepuff's favour - Angelina called a time out.

'How are you doing, Ron?' Angelina asked with concern.

'I'm fine,' Ron said. He didn't look fine. His nose was still bleeding and it was clearly broken; he had two shiny black eyes; when he smiled to show how fine he was it too was full of blood, and it looked to Harry like he had lost at least one tooth. There was also a lopsided zig zag to the way he was flying.

But Angelina, focused on the game as she was seemed convinced.

As the other players flew back to their positions however, she said to Harry, 'Better catch the Snitch quickly so Ron doesn't faint.'

The trouble was Harry hadn't seen even the tiniest glimpse of gold the whole match. Both teams were effectively one player down each now, but it was harder to win without a Keeper than it was with a missing Beater.

As if to prove this point Hufflepuff continued their comeback and soon the score was two hundred and fifty-one hundred and ten.

Suddenly Cedric dived towards the pitch. Harry followed his eyeline and saw it too. At the bottom of the central Gryffindor goalpost was the Golden Snitch. Harry steered his Firebolt in it's direction, weaving through the Chasers in the centre of the pitch. Harry nimbly avoided a Bludger that was coming his way. It Cedric caught the Snitch now then Hufflepuff would win by ten points. There was no way Harry was going to let that happen. He was on Cedric's broomtail now. Now they were alongside each other. They were neck and neck, arms outstretched. Harry pulled forward, but the Snitch darted right and Cedric pulled away to follow. The roar of the crowd told Harry that Cedric had caught the Snitch.

Sure enough, as he turned, Cedric was punching the air, the Snitch in his fist. Just past them Angelina was arguing with Madam Hooch about something. In fact most of his and Cedric's teammates had flown over to them to join in.

Harry strained to hear what Lee Jordan was saying.

'This is a close call - Johnson believes she scored her goal before Diggory caught the Snitch, and I'm inclined to agree, but Madam Hooch was watching the Seekers when the goal occurred.'

Gryffindor might not have lost. They might have drawn with Hufflepuff. But what were the chances Madam Hooch would allow the goal?

Harry could hear the confused crowds, who were arguing amongst themselves as to what had happened. Harry flew over to his teammates as Madam Hooch flew away from them.

'What did she say? Is she allowing the goal?' he asked.

'She needs to discuss it with neutral spectators,' Angelina said dully.

'Well that's good isn't it?' said Harry.

'It's Flitwick and Black,' said Fred.

'Flitwick won't want to allow the points to give Ravenclaw a chance after their two defeats,' said George.

'And Black's never going to favor Gryffindor is he?' said Fred.

Harry had to admit that the twins had a point.

'Hey,' said Cedric who had made his way over to the Gryffindor team, 'I just wanted to say, whatever happens, well played.'

He offered his hand to Angelina who shook it. 'Yeah, you too, congrats on catching the Snitch.'

'It was a close call,' he said, ' but I told Harry I'd catch it.' With a wink he flew back to his own team.

Madam Hooch had joined Lee Jordan in the commentary box. Next to her Professor McGonagal was stony faced in anticipation. Harry noticed she had her fingers crossed.

'This was a very close fought match,' Madam Hooch said addressing the crowd who had fallen unusually silent for a Quidditch game. 'A game like this just goes to prove the excitement of Quidditch and how fast paced the game can be. Luckily for us, out Potion Master, Professor Black, is a keen Quidditch fan, and as such, has a pair of Omnioculars which he enjoys watching replays through. This is particularly fortunate today. After reviewing the footage I can safely say... Miss Johnson's goal was scored just before Mr Diggory -'

The rest of her words were drowned out by the cheers from the Gryffindor stands. They had drawn with Hufflepuff.

Despite not winning Gryffindor celebrated the game happily that night, Ron in particular getting praise for his pressing on after his injury. After the match he had gone straight to Madam Pomfrey who had reattached his missing teeth easily.

'I bet she could sort your teeth out easily,' he said to Hermione as he barked his teeth for Lavender to inspect. 'You wouldn't have to worry about wearing those Muggle things!'

Hermione bristled at this, and announced that she was going to her dormitory to revise, because she couldn't concentrate in the Common Room. Harry was also feeling a little left out of the celebrations. He understood why - if he had caught the Snitch instead of Cedric then Gryffindor would have won. 

'Cheer up,' said Ginny to him later in the evening as the common room began to thin, 'you can't catch it every time.'

'Yeah, I suppose you're right,' said Harry smiling, though he didn't feel like it.

'I usually am,' Ginny said. 'The sooner you learn that, the better.'


	93. Black Memories

'Have you been dreaming this week?' Professor Black asked Harry at their Occlumency lesson the following Friday.

'No,' Harry said. The way Professor Black's eyes surveyed him, Harry could tell he wasn't convinced.In truth he had had a dream about Cedric dancing with Dobby whilst Professor McGonagal played the bagpipes, but he had not had any dreams about Voldemort. 

'Hmm, well let's see how well you do against my intrusions tonight.'

Harry did not fare well. First Harry was seven and it was Bonfire Night ... Dudley had fired a firework stolen by Piers Polkiss at him ... the firework ricocheted away before hitting Harry and struck the bell tower of St Anthony's ... Harry had been the one who had gotten in trouble, of course ... next he was ten and helping a snake escape from the zoo ... now he was thirteen and fighting off Dementors ... the Dementors were swooping down on him ... Harry could see Professor Black trying to fight them off ... but through the memory he could faintly see Professor Black in his office, standing in front of him ... somehow the Dementors were getting fainter ... Professor Black was growing clearer ...

Harry raised his wand.

'Protego!'

Black staggered backwards and dropped his wand. Suddenly Harry's mind was terming with memories that weren't his: a young boy, dark black hair, pale white face, no older than five was laughing as pretty girl, of about Harry's age, was using the Cruciatus Curse on a defenseless old lady ... now the boy was a little older, maybe eight or nine ... he was sat on the staircase that Harry recognised as Grimauld Place ... he was watching through the bannisters as a man beat a slightly older boy dressed in Gryffindor robes ... now he was in the Slytherin common room ... he looked to be Harry's age ... an older, greasy haired, hooked nosed student was walking over to him with a smirk ...

'ENOUGH!'

Harry was back in Professor Black's office. Clearly those memories had been the Potions Master's. The girl must have been Bellatrix Lestrange, the boy in the Gryffindor uniform had to be Sirius. Harry had no idea who the Slytherin with the hooked nose was.

'You used the Shield Charm, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't effective. It is not, however, what I have been teaching you, is it?'

'No,' Harry muttered. If he had stopped Professor Black from reading his memories what did it matter how he had achieved this?

'You need to stop me from penetrating your mind rather than being able to throw me out,' said Professor Black. 'You can't use a Shield Charm against Voldemort if he's there hundred miles away. And even if you could, chances are he would find the information he was looking for way before you managed to stop him.'

Harry's head was pounding. He was still trying to process the memories he had seen of Professor Black's childhood.

'Let's try that again,' Professor Black continued. 'Take your deep breaths ... in, 2, 3 ... out, 2, 3 ... in, 2, 3 ... out, 2, 3 ... Legilimens!'

Harry was in the Shrieking Shack meeting Sirius for the first time ... now they were in London enjoying a walk with Remus, Sirius's first summer as a free man ... now they were in Dumbledore's office, Barry Crouch Sr transforming into his son as the polyjuice potion wore off ... now Harry was sat on the stairs of Grimauld Place watching Sirius get beat by his father again ...

And now he was back in Professor Black's office, on all fours, panting.

'You worked out who was in my memory then, Mr Potter,' Professor Black said. There was no accusations or anger, it was just a simple statement of fact. 'Yes, it is true, my father was not the proudest parent to have a son in Gryffindor. I would be most grateful if you did not share this fact with others, as, I am sure, would my brother be. It is his story to tell, not ours.'

Harry nodded. He had no intention to tell anyone. Though he knew he had to speak to Sirius about it when he could.

'All right,' said Professor Black. 'Forget about my brother, clear your mind, and we'll go again ...'

*

As a dull March blurred into a squally April, Harry's life continued to be one long series of worries and problems. As the teachers and Hermione persisted in reminding him, the OWLs were drawing ever nearer. All the fifth-years were suffering from stress to some degree, but Hannah Abbott became the first to receive a Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey after she burst into tears during Charms and sobbed that she was too stupid to take exams and wanted to leave school now. Fred and George meanwhile were making a fortune selling their Concentration Concoctions.

On top of this, Harry was desperate to speak with Sirius about the memory he had seen. To Harry, the fact that he has witnessed the abuse of his godfather at such a young age weighed heavy on him. It was an invasion of privacy that Harry had not wanted. But with Sirius on Auror missions Harry had no chance to speak with him.

His dreams had stopped though, which meant that the Occlumency lessons were working on that front at least. Professor Black, however, was continuing to invade his mind on a weekly basis.

On the first day of the Easter holidays Hermione, as was her custom, had spent a large part of the day drawing up revision timetables for them. Harry, Ron and Neville had let her do it - it was easier than arguing with her and, in any case, they might come in useful. Ron had been startled to discover there were only six weeks let until their exams.

'How can that come as a shock?' Hermione demanded, as she tapped each little square on Ron's timetable with her wand so that it flashed a different colour according to its subject.

'I dunno,' said Ron, 'there's been a lot going on.' 

'Well, there you are,' she said, handing him his timetable, 'if you follow that you should do fine.'

Ron looked down it gloomily, but then brightened.

'You've given me two nights off every week!'

'That's for Defence Club and Quidditch practice,' said Hermione.

'Oh, right, yeah,' said Ron, slightly crestfallen.

News of Sirius finally reached them the next morning in the Daily Prophet.

 _DEATH EATER CAUGHT IN THE ACT_ read the headline.

_Atticus Avery jr, 37, was captured last night by three Aurors who caught him torturing a Muggle in the town of Cokeworth._

_After an anonymous tip Gawain Robards, 42, Sirius Black, 36, and Mendacius Fawley, 22, visited the West Midlands town in the dead of night, where they found Avery, fully clad in Death Eater robes, placing curses on a Muggle woman. After the ensuing battle, the three Aurors managed to capture Avery and return him to London where he awaits his trial, due to take place this afternoon._

_Avery was accused of being a Death Eater at the end of the war against He Who Must Not Be Named, but claimed to have been under the Imperious Curse. The charges will be harder to evade on this occasion._

_What Avery was doing in Cokeworth remains unknown, as does his sudden desire to torture a Muggle in plain sight. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes are still modifying memories as the Daily Prophet goes to press. What is also unknown is how the Aurors in question managed to get to the scene so promptly and who tipped them off_

_'It is said that Black was the source of the information,' reveals an anonymous Ministry source. 'I don't think we can rule out this as a coordinated arrest. We all know Black managed to escape Azkaban. Has he offered Avery instructions on how this was achieved? I don't doubt Avery allowed himself to be arrested in order to lead a mass breakout of Death Eaters, especially since the removal of Dementors must increase the chances of such an attempt succeeding.'_

_Head of the Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour, 51, refuses to comment on any such allegations._

'So, someone is still trying to discredit Sirius,' Harry said after reading the article for a second time.

'It looks that way,' said Hermione. 'I wouldn't be surprised if there actually was a breakout attempt before long though.'

'You're not saying you believe that Sirius had something to do with this?' Harry said, shocked.

'No, not at all,' Hermione said hurriedly. 'But you have to admit it's odd that Avery would out himself so publicly, before You-Know-Who makes his big comeback. He's lost Barty Crouch Jr and Lucius Malfoy in the last year, as well as the two that Madame Maxime Obliviated in Europe. He must be desperate to increase his ranks again. And if he can discredit Sirius, someone who is a major threat, but also an easy target because of his history, well even better ...'

As usual, Harry had to admit Hermione had a point. He was now even more keen to speak with Sirius.


	94. Careers Advice

As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets and notices concerning various wizarding careers appeared on the tables in Gryffindor Tower shortly before the end of the holidays, along with yet another notice on the board, which read: 

_CAREERS ADVICE_

_All fifth-years are required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below._

Harry looked down the list and found that he was expected in Professor McGonagalls office at half past two on Monday which would mean missing most of Divination. He and the other fifth-years spent a considerable part of the final weekend of the Easter break reading all the careers information that had been left there for their perusal.

'Well, I don't fancy Healing,' said Ron on the last evening of the holidays. He was immersed in a leaflet that carried the crossed bone-and-wand emblem of St Mungo's on its front. 'It says here you need at least E at NEWT level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. I mean blimey don't want much, do they?' 

'Well, it's a very responsible job isn't it? said Hermione absently.

She was poring over a bright pink and orange leaflet that was headed. SO YOU THINK YOU'D LIKE TO WORK IN MUGGLE RELATIONS?'

'You dont seem to need many qualifications to liase with Muggles; all they want is an OWL in Muggle Studies: Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience and a good sense of fun!'

'You'd need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,' said Harry darkly. 'Good sense of when to duck, more like.' He was halfway through a pamphlet on wizard banking, 'Listen to this: Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting Curse Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad. They want Arithmancy though: you could do it, Hermione!'

'I don't much fancy banking,' said Hermione vaguely, now immersed in: HAVE YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO TRAIN SECURITY TROLLS?

'What about you, Nev?' asked Ron as he tossed aside MAKE A BANG AT THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL ACCIDENTS AND CATASTROPHES. 'Seen anything that takes your fancy?'

'Not really,' said Neville morosely, looking up from IS THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL TRANSPORTATION THE NEXT STEP OF YOUR JOURNEY?

Finally Harry's meeting with McGonagall arrived.

'Take a seat, Potter,' she said as he entered her office. At the back of the office Kinglsey was sat. He offered Harry a large smile. Next to Kingsley sat an emotionless Professor Black.

'Well, Potter, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into the sixth and seventh years,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?' 

'Er - well, I thought of, maybe, being an Auror,' Harry mumbled.

'Yes, I thought that might be the case,' said Professor McGonagall, extracting a small, dark leaflet from under the mass on her desk, 'which is why I invited Professor Shacklebolt to join us. Professor Black also showed interest in your future, which is why he is with us.'

Harry looked over his shoulder at the two teachers at the back of the office. Kinglsey was wearing a warm smile, Professor Black continued to give nothing away.

'You will need top grades to become an Auror,' Professor McGonagall continued as she opened the leaflet. 'They ask for a minimum of five NEWTS, and nothing under "Exceeds Expectations" grade, I see. Then you would be required to undergo a stringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auror office. It's a difficult career path, Potter, they only take the best. Before we continue, I just want to make sure this isn't just because Sirius has recently joined the ranks of the Aurors.'

Harry shook his head and said, 'No, Professor.' Harry had thought about being an Auror for a while now. Professor Moody had put the idea into his head, and Harry felt that was where he could do the most good. The fact that he might have the opportunity to work alongside Sirius was now an added bonus as he saw it.

'Very well,' said Professor McGonagall, convinced, 'you'll want to know which subjects you ought to take. I suppose?'

'Yes,' said Harry,' Defence Against the Dark Arts, I suppose.'

'Naturally,' said Professor McGonagall. 'I would also advise Transfiguration, because Aurors frequently need to Transfigure or Untransfigure in their work. And I ought to tell you now, Potter, that I do not accept students into my NEWT classes unless they have achieved "Exceeds Expectations" or higher at Ordinary Wizarding Level. I'd say you're averaging "Acceptable" at the moment, so you'll need to put in some good hard work before the exams to stand a chance of continuing. Then you ought to do Charms, always useful and Potions - poisons and antidotes are essential study for Aurors. And just like myself, Professor Black absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than "Exceeds Expectations" in their OWLS, so I would advise you to concentrate hard on bringing your Transfiguration and Potions up to scratch. I see Professor Flitwick has graded you between "Acceptable" and Exceeds Expectations for the last two years, so your Charmwork seems satisfactory. As for Defence Against the Dark Arts, your marks have been consistently high, so I don't think there will be any problems there, will there Kingsley?'

'No, I think Mr Potter will do just fine there,' Kingsley boomed from the back of the office.

'If I may interrupt, Professor,' Professor Black said, standing and walking over to the desk.

'Of course, Regulus,' said Professor McGonagall indicating with her hand that he should continue.

'Mr Potter,' Professor Black said, 'I understand your keenness to become an Auror. It is most commendable, however I feel there may be other pursuits you should consider. After all, Dumbledore hopes to end Voldemort's rise before it begins. Hopefully this means that there will be very little need for new Aurors once you leave Hogwarts.' 

Harry looked at the other Professors. McGonagall was watching Professor Black with interest, Kingsley had his eyebrows knitted together, with a look of frustration on his face.

'We all know your natural aptitude for Quidditch,' Professor Black continued. 'I know you missed the Snitch on your last game, but that is the first time you have not ended a match here at Hogwarts - if we don't count the friendly competition we hosted last year. I have a number of contacts on major teams that would happily sign someone of your calibre. And if you were called up to the national team, I'm sure we would do far better in the World Cup. We lost Charlie Weasley to the dragons, it we be a shame if we lost you too.'

Harry had never seriously considered Quidditch as a career before. He loved flying, loved his time on the Quidditch Pitch. Oliver Wood had joined Puddlemore United upon leaving Hogwarts. Harry knew Wood's passion for Quidditch far exceeded his own, but he couldn't deny he would have fun playing in the national league.

'My second thought, and I doubt even my esteemed colleague, Professor Shacklebolt, would argue with me on this, is teaching.'

Harry's thoughts were pulled from his dreams of playing Quidditch for England in front of thousands. Professor Black thought he should go in to teaching?

'Professor Shacklebolt and I have often discussed your attention to helping other students in Defense Club and apparently you are just as receptive during Defense Against the Dark Arts classes,' said Professor Black. 'You have a natural ability at Defense and a patience when helping others master the spells that are being taught. I am struck in particular with your perseverance at teaching Mr Malfoy how to conjure a Patronus. At some point after you final examinations at NEWT level there will be an opening for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professorship. I would ask you to seriously consider this career path.'

'Well,' said Professor McGonagall, 'I think this was a very productive meeting. That's three careers you have a great chance of succeeding in. Do you have anything to add, Kingsley?'

'Only that, if Harry is serious about becoming an Auror, and works hard to get the grades needed to take the NEWTs you discussed earlier, Minerva, then I know that Rufus Scrimgeour would happily allow Harry to join our ranks as an Auror '

'And do you have any questions, Mr Potter?' McGonagall asked.

Harry shook his head.

'Very well, Potter,' McGonagall continued, 'back to class you go. And don't dilly-dally, we wouldn't want Professor Trelawney thinking her prediction of your early death has come true, would we now?'


End file.
